After this, I'm hijacking 2011.

On Friday I am going to go in for my eighth treatment. Yes, EIGHTH! Time is flying by; I can't believe that I am about to be 2/3 finished with my chemotherapy.

Seems like just yesterday I went in for an x-ray, not thinking anything bad would come out of it. I went to the doctor's all by myself for the results. I didn't think that I needed any support because it wouldn't be anything worth worrying about. I was told I had cancer as I sat all by myself in the doctor's office. I left the doctor's office all alone, not sure where to go or what I was going to do.

I was so scared.

I remember being terrified to tell my grandparents, my friends. I remember being so nervous to go in for my first chemotherapy treatment. I wasn't sure what to expect or how I would react to the drugs.

The first treatment was torture. I couldn't eat or drink because my tongue completely shot full of pain every time it tasted flavors or got wet. I could hardly swallow. I slept for hours on end and my entire body was full of pain. When my hair started falling out, I would find it everywhere. It was on my pillows and clothes and all over the floor. I was losing myself.

Now my treatments aren't so bad (though not enjoyable by any means), and I have been slowly getting closer to the finish line. I am still tired after treatments, and my energy levels completely dissolve. Five to seven days after treatments, all of the muscles in my body become sore and my entire body bloats up with retained water. I get random food cravings, and my stomach knots up. Some days I want nothing more than to just crawl up in a ball and sleep. Some days I just sit and cry and wonder why I have to go through all of this.

But most days I am looking forward to it all being over. There are little signs that have presented themselves that leave me optimistic and staying strong so I can through to the end of this. Most importantly, my scan results gave me hope. They show me that all of this pain and hell I have been going through have been for something good. It is working.

My hair has started growing back a little bit already. I'm not sure why, but it is. I have started looking forward to the day when I no longer need to wear my wig to feel like a human. I look forward to having a cute little pixie boy haircut. I can't wait to feel what it's like to wash my own hair in the shower again. I have completely forgotten what that feels like.

The thing I look most forward to, though, is just feeling normal again. I miss having my normal energy. I miss having a little pep in my step and feeling sexy walking down the street in heels. I miss having the energy to wear heels! It's the little things I miss so much, but can't wait to have again.

What I do know is that when all of this is over, I am going to have no excuses to not completely go full force after my dreams and achieving greatness. If I can overcome this, I can do anything! So come New Year's Eve, I am going to be a completely new, motivated woman. (Cue Rocky theme song.)

Only eight more weeks. Four treatments, eight weeks.