The two weeks between treatments are mainly spent on the couch. I stare into space feeling blood and chemicals pumping through my body wondering: what is happening to me? My physical chemistry is being changed, I am no longer myself; I'm being altered by this cocktail of poison that someone I just met told me to take. I'm being force-fed this kool-aid I don't want; It makes me nauseous and weak, but I have to take it. I've been watching a lot of television, finding it hard to focus on reading, or focus in general. I've stopped doing homework for Beginning Latin and Roman Civilization classes; something unheard of for this eager student. A language teacher, I want to learn a third language, but cancer hit mid-semester and my professors understood my priority; I dropped out to focus on my health. My survivor friend Adrienne told me I was experiencing chemo brain, which explains the reason for my fogginess, memory loss and lack of concentration. I don't feel okay to drive, so she's been taking me to my doctors appointments and errand running. I feel alien and walk slowly, as if I am getting my balance back after a bought of vertigo. All I want is to eat chicken, mashed potatoes and string beans, obsessing over the same meal like Rain Man. My new diagnosis of chemo brain, I let myself lay on the couch and watch television, a foreign hobby for me, but prescribed, so I comply.