Mood: Raw. Restless. Drained. Surviving.

They call this part of the process “the valley.”

I knew it was coming.
They prepared me for it.
Days 4 through 14… the hardest stretch.

But knowing about it and living it are two very different things.

The valley isn’t just about feeling sick.
It’s about being completely emptied out.

By the time I was admitted to the hospital, my body was done.
I couldn’t keep my medications down.
Every pill led to cramping and vomiting.
So everything had to go through my Hickman line.

At that point, my immune system was gone.
Not low—gone.

And with that comes a different kind of vulnerability.

The hospital became my world for 10 days.
And honestly… it felt like being a caged animal.

No real sleep.
Vitals being taken around the clock.
Machines. Noise. Interruptions.

Time started to blur together.
Day and night didn’t feel all that different.

There wasn’t much energy for thinking ahead or reflecting.
It wasn’t about being strong or positive.

It was about getting through the next hour.
Then the next.

The fatigue is hard to explain unless you’ve felt it.
It’s not just tired—it’s a full shutdown.
Your body slows everything down to focus on one thing: surviving.

This is the part they warn you about.

The part where everything bottoms out.
Where your body has nothing left… before it starts to rebuild.

There’s no real way around it.
You just have to go through it.

This is the valley.