November 21st, 2014. My first chemo treatment - Adriamycin and Cytoxan. My head felt swimmy. I was told I'd feel like I have the flu...general malaise. I went home and laid down for a while, and at about 5:00 pm I started vomiting violently and continued to do so every twenty minutes. Not much was coming out because I had only eaten pretzels and drank water. I was terrified- is this what chemotherapy is going to be like for the next four months? I felt weak and out of control - my body was rejecting the poison in my body and I didn't know how would get through this. The discharge papers said to call my oncologist if I was vomiting uncontrollably, so I called a couple of times. After a very long hour of waiting and more vomiting, I begged my boyfriend to take me to the Emergency Room. I wanted to be in a safe environment where people knew how to take care of me. I felt so incredibly weak and scared that I felt like I was going to collapse. On the way to the hospital, my doctor called back and told me which meds to take (more anti-nausea and one anti-anxiety) and to go to sleep. The anti-anxiety pill knocked me out, but only after my boyfriend shamed me for not being more patient in waiting for the call-back from my doctor. I guess I put him out by asking him to drive me to the ER. All I wanted was to be cuddled and safe, and instead I felt all alone and like I had done something wrong. Cancer is the beast that is changing me and setting me apart.