November 16, 2016
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Time seemed to disappear faster since I heard the news. Two weeks passed like two days. Now I'm back the west wing of the Anderson Oncology Center. It's time to start treatment. The last fourteen days soared past me, but walking though the glass double doors makes time stop all together. It took a lifetime for my name to be called, and it took a second life time, which I'm not so fortunate as to possess, to prep me for my condemnation. I felt the cotton glide across my hand, and the alcohol become one with the air, yet I was surrounded by numbness. That's when I realized this is routine. They replace life with an IV everyday, and the sharp prick against my skin is worth nothing more than thirty dollars an hour. I thought about my thirty dollars an hour. It lost it's excitement with every drop being thrust into my body.To say time stood still would be an understatment. Time was being taken from me and replaced by the harsh reality of a paradoxal chemical.

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