There is a bell that hangs on the wall in the chemo room. Patients get to ring this bell when all their rounds of chemo are completed. They ring the bell with such glee and joy. Chemo is finished, and life can carry on. I hate that bell. I know that sounds foolish, but I really, really, really hate that bell. The doctors told me the second time my breast cancer returned that it had metastasized to my bones and lymph system and so it was incurable. I will never get to ring it unless God chooses to do a miracle. Instead I sit in the chemo room and stare at the bell and smile when others ring it. Some days I want to take the bell and throw it out the closest window, and other times it takes all I have to not go up and ring it and ring it some more. I am not sure if I would be ringing it in hope or defiance. Such foolishness, but I hate hearing that bell ring. I smile, cheer, and clap when someone else rings the bell, but inside I hurt. The bell makes me angry, and I sit and ask God why. Why not me? Why? I am sure that everyone can relate to something in their life they have wanted to do so badly but can’t. It may be a foolish desire, but it is part of who we are.