New Year’s Eve sitting on my couch in my pj’s, wrapped up in a soft blue blanket, watching Ryan Seacrest and Jenny McCarthy “rock in” 2016. Duke is beside me with his head on my lap. I pet him but he really does not care because he is sound asleep, snoring loudly. He must be wondering why the hell I am still up. As the ball begins to drop, I start to cry. One minute left in 2015. One minute left in the toughest year of my life. One minute left to reflect on all I have gone through in this fight against cancer. One minute left to be disappointed that this was not the year I thought it would be when I “rocked in” 2015. One minute left to be sad that my body has changed, my hair is so short, my strength is less and that the freedom of thought I had before cancer is gone from me. The ball continues to drop. 20, 19, 18, I continue to cry. The toughest year of my life repeating over and over in my head. 10, 9, 8. Tears flowing down my face into my hands. 6, 5, 4, Sitting staring at the ball. All shiny and new. All glowing with one million people happily waiting below while I sit on my couch, wrapped in a blue blanket in tears. 3, 2, 1, Happy New Year. It’s done. Done and I head to bed.