So I won’t.
Thanks to chemo, I now have the skin of a 105 year old.
If you happen across a skinless 105 year old, please tell her where she can find me.
I’d like to give it back.
After a certain number of sleepless nights, doesn’t your body have to finally fall asleep?
Pain or no pain?
I finally got my pain medication to take the edge off my many complaints and was able to sleep for almost 3 hours today.
I never thought I’d be so happy to feel so rotten.
I don’t know why, but that’s it.
For the first time since my first surgery way back in October, I’m throwing in the towel and going right back to bed. No juicing, no supplements, no exercise, no shower.
I know it’s chemo and I’m grateful to be doing as well as I am.
But I’m outa here and I mean it this time.
I don’t need a justification (I’m living it), but if you do, here’s a partial list:
- two days of throbbing aches all over, numbness, disorientation, weepiness and stomach woes – no appetite, limited taste, sore throat, tongue, ears, teeth, head
- two nights of writhing in pain and delirium
- one thawed canal
- one slushy, grey world
- two thread-bare, ten year old boots soaking two already aching feet with icy slush
- one first ever sleeping pill at 3am this morning
- one puffy, quickly aging, eyelash-free face
- one transmuting port-a-cath
- and did I mention our insurance company and broker are both robbing us blind and ruining our lives?
- oh ya, and the police knocked on our door early this morning informing me that I’m due in court April 28 and 29 as a witness against my bully of a “father” as a result of his attempt to break in to our home on April 5, 2009?
Oh, and today’s my half-birthday. Which means it’s six months since this all began. Halfy Birthday to me.
Seems this may be the extent of my day today.
Am I actually being physically ground down by chemo or do I just need to give myself a kick?
I’m really not sure.
But with my heels too blistered for shoes/skates and my distressed digestion dragging into day six, I might just veg today either way.
Maybe part of this journey is learning a little laziness.
Ok. Maybe I’m getting bored of chemo or forgetting how absolutely lucky I am that I’m not throwing up or laying in bed moaning — but this round seems very different.
Digestive distress or no, the chemo cravings (for pizza, chinese food, big sloppy burgers) are just out of the park. Nauseating images of the chemo-pod (bleh!), the styrofoam cup of ice-chips (bleh!), the food I eat on chemo-days (bleh!) are just absolutely haunting me. And, though I’m continuing my daily walks, jog/skate and excercise, I’m feeling weak and dizzy.
Right now I seriously feel so loopy I shouldn’t even be allowed to blog.
But the sun is shining and the canal is open, so I’m heading out for a skate.
This might not be the best idea…
p.s. Dear reader in Don Mills, ON: Sorry you haven’t had a lot of luck searching here for “Josie”, “Josephine Ross”, “Keith”, “In-laws”, “Keith Ross”,”grandparents”, “Andrea’s father”, “my father”, “my mother”, “parents” etc. This p.s. will give you some search results though!
I feel like an alien among the healthy.
And I felt like an alien in the support group.
But I’m happy as a clam in my chemo-created cocoon.
Just me, my pooch, my runners, my skates, my computer, my sewing machine and my peanut butter and toast.
I think I’ll stay right here.