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But First

March 15, 2010

I’ve got about 3 million trillion zillion words that I’d like to write but I don’t want to wear you all out. Perhaps there will be several entries today. Perhaps not. I’m moody like that.

Before I begin today’s entry (let’s pretend that I haven’t), I have to show you something that has happened to me over the weekend.

I had a slight fever from Thursday until last night. All that skin disarray what with the temperature fluctuation and the sweats and the sleeping on a sweaty pillow by this poor sensitive-skinned scandihoovian gal did quite the number on my face.

I broke out with zits. And have decided that there is not enough chemicals inside my body, I’m topping them off with a topical zit-zapping dose of Proactiv mask.

I would like you to note that my hair, always the misbehavor, has been the model of hairstyles since I got it cut by the lovely Lynn a few weeks ago. It’s a swan song, people. A swan song.

Also, note that my zits are on the left side of my face, only. This is because I cannot sleep anywhere near that right side. The lymphnode-impaired side. Which is pretty much dead to me. Because there’s still so much numbness, it might as well be dead. Dumb arm. I’d cut it off if it wouldn’t slow down my Culver’s Butterburger eating.

I don’t want to talk about god anymore. It bores me. But I do want you to know that I am suspicious that somebody has done given my name, with address, to some sort of evangelical congregation, as it is the funky churches that meet in middle schools, who have sent representation to my door. I have a little more respect for the “religions” that reside in churches made of brick. And that’s because my grandfather built a few of those back in the day. And I have great aunts who resided in convents. I am known to trust all sorts of Lutherans and Catholics, so I am very happy that they haven’t sent clergy to my door.

p.s. This is not an open invitation for priests and lutheran clergy to come a-knockin’. If my old friend, Paul, the Methodist Minister, comes to town – he’s welcome. But that mothertrucker better have a hotdish with him.

Today I’ll be using my mad Microsoft Word skillz to make a little No Soliciting sign for the front door. And then I’ll be laminating it because you know I have a laminator. Doesn’t everybody?

Office Supplies Against God!

I appreciate the prayering people are doing for me. It’s very thoughtful and very kind. I just don’t want it within earshot. Not unless I get to do my own prayering  as a follow-up. Sort of like a prayering debate. But I win because I have cancer and you should respect that.

Amen.

Yesterday was a day that I really really really  needed:

1. On Saturday (yesterday was Sunday, don’t be too confused) I was a very crabby cancer-riddled gal. Having the fever and the aches all day Friday, with little sleep, I wanted nothing to do with anyone. “Call Dan!” The Big Nugget said. Because, poor Dan, has been officially declared the person most likely to make me feel better – whether he wants to or not. “I don’t want to call Dan!” I replied, not very politely. “Call Barb!” The Big Nugget said. “I don’t want to call Barb. I don’t want watermelon! I don’t want to talk!”

2. On Sunday (the day I really really really needed) I called Dan, who made me feel better. Sorry, Dan. You just encouraged me to call you every dang time I’m feeling bad. And then I called Barb. Not that I needed watermelon but because I just needed touch base with her after I’d refused to call her. Even though she was totally unaware of my refusal to call her. And then I called CiNDy. Because that is what I do. And wow! Look at me with the peppy! People! I am not so peppy as you would think me to be. I really would like to be the JD Salinger of friendships. I stay at my house and you show up and I tell you to get the hell off my property. Which is something I have no idea that JD Salinger did, but I like the idea that he might have.

3. There was sunshine and it was 64 degrees outside yesterday. We’ve had rain and fog for a week now. How do people live in Seattle? Even when it’s -45 in Minnesota, you’ll get a blue, crisp sky. And you’ll run out and turn your face up to it and think “I love the sun!” Of course, then you’ll run back inside, use a box of kleenex on your running nose. Because sinuses do not like running from a 70 degree house to a -45 degree patio. And sinuses do not keep their feelings to themselves. So yesterday I spent about 2 hours on the patio in my favorite garage-sale wicker chair, reading. It was fantastic and it makes me realize that I might just make it through this cancer after all. Because you know that I’ve just wanted to lay down and give up many times.

Speaking of laying down and giving up (I know, this is getting long. Take a break. Grab some lunch. Get some coffee. Come back. This entry will still be here) by Saturday morning I’d decided that I was never going back for chemo, ever again. Such a fighter, ain’t I?

But then I had that conversation with Dan and it hit me…I can do this.

Here’s the part where I tell you how dumb I am.

When I read about all of the side effects of chemo and then started to feel the side effects of chemo, I figured they’d last until I was a month or so done with my final round of chemo. Sometime mid-July or August. I couldn’t live this way until August.

But then, duh, Dan told me that I would not feel ridiculously worse with each passing chemo (I figured it just got worse and worse and worse) and that most of the side effects I’m feeling would be temporary. I would not feel nauseous until August. I would have days of nausea but it wouldn’t be constant. I would have days of achy joints but not the entire time. I would have days of temps but not the entire time.

Oh. Huh. Nobody said that exact thing to me.

Yes. I am this dense.

Dense, but very relieved. With pimples.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. March 15, 2010 11:14 am

    Okay it must be the old lady in me but your face looks fine and so does your beautiful floors. I know you are probably sick of hearing this but “Do you need anything?” And living in the Pacific Northwest is no picnic. Portland, Oregon (where I am ) has the highest suicide rate due to weather. Nice huh?
    Thinking of you!

  2. poolagirl permalink
    March 15, 2010 4:39 pm

    Cute as ever….zits or no zits.

  3. March 16, 2010 1:34 am

    Glad to hear that you’re not burying your feelings through all of this. Seriously. Crabby is part of it. Angry, sad, insolent, happy, grateful. It’s all life. I didn’t want to go back either. And beginning again with this new regimen…I’m grateful it’s only onlyfourtreatments in a newer office, with more compatible care!

  4. Vonnie permalink
    March 20, 2010 9:17 am

    First thing I thought was Wow, good ROM for the self-pic. Then I thought, cute hair! I want cute hair! Last I thought, why does she have TP on her face? Is she SHAVING??

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