Well, off to Pittsburgh I go. I am to follow my treatment there because my surgery was there and, at the time, I could not be taken care of in Meadville.

What is it about chemotherapy that makes your mind do back flips?

I have a mediport and am quite glad of it. I have always had awful veins and this is just about the best thing since puffed wheat, as it is one stop stick.

Hallelujah. It stings a little, but not bad.

I am in a little cubicle with a red-headed nurse who does stand-up comedy just to keep me occupied and distracted. I look to the right and left of me to see who is there and if my fear shows.

My foot is jumping a mile a minute — something I always — do but I am now in overtime. Too bad they can’t harness some kind of energy from it.

Now what really blows my mind is the nurse has gloves and a mask on and she is putting the chemo into my body? I really don’t want to see it or hear it as the machine regulates the drips throughout the time I am getting chemo ... reminds me of Chinese water torture.

I ask that they put the machine behind me, and on goes the TV, my IPOD and I open a book.

Funny, I can’t look at anything or concentrate on anything. My mind jumps to my old standby. Can I please have some popcorn, and down goes my husband to find the salve that I am asking for.

I really didn’t want him looking at me for just a little bit, as I can see his pain as he looks at what I am going through.

I want to just curl up in a cocoon for even a bit and not talk, think or move.

Breathing at this point is like out of control, as the more I think on it the more rapidly I breathe, and I just need to switch gears. This too shall pass and with each treatment, I count one more down.

First one down and I do OK, not too sick, and it is manageable. Am I just exhausted from the trip, the chemo or my nerves? Guess it all adds up.

I don’t feel 53 right now, I feel 94.

Tomorrow will be better!