I focused all of my energy on getting through each day.
But on one of my worst days, I told my mother that I understood why people
asked for assisted suicides.
If things were never going to get any better than this, life wasn't worth
Even then, however, things were starting to turn around.
I was slowly growing stronger. My white-blood-cell counts, which had been
blasted to zero, were returning to normal.
My immune system was recovering. In early September, I was released from the
The first year was a slow process of resuming normal life, watching for my
hair to start growing (it finally did)…
… and working to regain my strength and muscle tone.
My ovaries no longer functioned, and I would be on hormone-replacement
therapy for the rest of my life.