It's a love/hate relationship. I love that it's killing the cancer and shrinking the tumors, I hate what it does to the rest of my healthy body. They dripped the poison that is making me well in my veins once again today. That means only two more trysts to go - I think it is mostly a summer fling! Certainly, there will be some ugly residuals, but it's best that we call it quits soon. I usually feel pretty good the day of the drip, but today is new and special. My feet are numb and my eyes feel like they are full of little crystals. I am decidedly emotional and weepy. Who doesn't love being around an emotional, weepy, numb-footed woman. Oh, I know . . . me! I am sick of being around me. If I could crawl out of my skin right about now, before the symptoms get worse, that would be a very good thing. I am wallowing. Sue me.
Last night was fun. I had a little pre-chemo get together with my wonderful gal-pals. I tried to think of the most decadent thing to have before crashing - so we had martini's and pie out on the patio. It was most delicious and very perfect seeing so many of my lovely female friends surrounding me. They sent me off in an iridescent, protective bubble to face one more treatment. Thinking of it now makes me wallow a little less and smile at the memory of good friends coming bearing sweet treats and flowers and love and laughter. Once this whole ordeal is over, I hope we can continue to meet up just because it is good for the soul. There are already grand ideas for the pre-surgery party. Bernadette thinks we should all bring boob food - anything shaped like boobs. There are catchy-phrased invitations being bandied about - "Ta Ta Titty", "Audios Aureole", "Bye Bye Boobie"! Any suggestions to add to this list are welcome! I suppose you can choose to laugh at this or cry. Mostly I try to laugh - the crying helps a little, but not like the laughter. I much prefer to find the lighter side, the dark side is scary and deep.
School starts up again in just over two weeks. I am dreading it. My next chemo is the very first week of school. How am I ever going to keep up with the grueling schedule? Two different schools, two different drop-off's and pick-up's. HOMEWORK! How will they ever get through without my pushing and nudging along? I can't even walk up a hill right now, let alone take an interest in school work. Dear Lord, protect my children while I am unavailable to them.
Today is one day post chemo. I go in for hydration and an injection to boost my white blood cell count. The plethora of drugs streaming through my system are making me feel a little drunk - I have to choose my steps carefully. This will certainly look good as I try and get my children to school in a couple of weeks. How long can I fool people into believing I'm working on my Foster Brooks imitation. Maybe I should just let rumors run rampant that the whole ordeal has turned me into a raving alchoholic!
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2 comments:
Count me in for help. Although, frankly, you probably don't want me helping with any math homework. I might bring them down.
Somehow I missed this installment until just now. Sorry about that! How about "Au revoir Rack" for that party? "Ciao Cha Chas?" "Bon Voyage Bazoombas?" You know, I actually had wanted to go to the pie and martini party, but didn't remember until about 7:00 that night. :-(
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