Is it really living, what I am doing?  Waiting for the next round of chemo, doc. appointments, another biopsy?  Life has been on hold this whole year because of my new found fucking “friend”.  Like a bad penny I can’t get rid of.  It messes with you, gets in your head.  You start thinking thats all people see you as, regardless if it’s true or not, as a cancer patient.  Are they staring at me because they know?  Is the bald head a dead give-a-way?  Who am I going forward?  Am I always going to be referred to as the chick with cancer?  Living.  I haven’t been living, but better yet surviving.  It should be called waiting with cancer.