Once again, I am paused. Like a machine that typically runs smoothly and efficiently, but temporarily has the pause button pushed. I know I will be up and running like a top once again, so I will patiently wait.

I pause and wait for the chemo drugs to do their thing. To flow through my body killing cancer cells while I nap or soak in a deep hot bath.

I pause and wait for my white blood cells to regenerate due to the Neulasta injection so my immune system can be given another kickstart and protect me from infections.

I pause and wait for my appetite to make a reappearance, which will be a signal that my normal energy and hunger for life has returned.

I pause and wait for all of my bodily processes to sort themselves out and get back to normal.

I pause and wait to feel good again. I know I will. I did before. Pausing is simply part of the cancer treatment deal.

Since I prefer to be at peace as I pause, I must remember that I cannot will or rush my body to behave in any other way than what it is right now. To pause means to wait, not to force.

I can rest. I can do my best to eat small meals. I can sip ginger tea and patiently wait for the pause button to automatically shut off and the ALIVE button to go on, so that is what I will do.