I fell so hard in the clinic the other day. I was walking in and stumbled over my stupid numb toes. I cried out in pain and strangers came running. A little too cocky with my walking skills, I should have been using my walker instead of my walking poles. They put me in a wheelchair, took my vitals and did an incident report. I’m just relieved I didn’t hit my head. My doctor checked me out and everything seemed ok until I got home. Both knees, one ankle and the opposite foot started to hurt. I iced them all evening. I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and I couldn’t put any weight on my foot. I sat and cried because I didn’t know what to do. I already have a hard enough time getting around. Luckily with the aid of some pain killers, towards the end of the day I started feeling better and was able to walk again.
LOTS of chemo this week. On top of IVs, tummy shots and a lumbar puncture, I started a new chemo pill. The pharmacist said to not let anyone else touch the pills, keep them in the bottle (not in a pill box), and to wash my hands after I take them. If it’s that toxic to touch, imagine what it’s doing to my insides. Or don’t, chemo gives me enough anxiety as is – *insert emoji with huge “ahh” eyes.
I haven’t been nauseous yet, thankfully, but I woke up today with a headache and crazy body aches. The mouth sores are back. I’m also having difficulty with my vision. It’s hard to read this page even. I just feel unwell.
I’m on a break from my steroids thank goodness because the lack of sleep, puffiness and constant need to be eating were getting to me. One morning I was craving pizza for breakfast so I made (my mum made) a pizza bagel. Bagels make it breakfast-y. On a scale of 1-10, it was yum-tacular.
I look like cancer. A few years ago, when I worked for a kids cancer organization, I was with a group of kiddos at Alcatraz and requested for all of them to ride in the ADA cart to the top (it’s a long walk up a huge hill from the boat) and the attendant looked over at the group and said “all of them?” and I said “yes, we are a kids cancer organization” and he said “well they don’t all look sick” and I wanted to SMACK him. How do you know what “sick” looks like, bro? Don’t worry, I didn’t inflict violence and the kiddos got the ride to the top of “The Rock”. Well I look sick af. I glance in the mirror and I’m like woah. I’m super pale with weird bags under my eyes. My face is v round like a Cabbage Patch Kid. My hair is falling out like crazy. I think I look like Uncle Joey’s woodchuck puppet from Full House. The resemblance is uncanny, ay?
As I was walking through the clinic the other day I took in all the people around me. I’m one of the younger patients there by far (sometimes I see other young adults but not often). But I just thought how sad it is that, because of covid, we can’t have any guests in the cancer center. If covid wasn’t happening these people would have their significant others, children or friends to help push them in a wheelchair, keep them company in the waiting room (where we spend a lot of time), and hold their hands during treatment. I’m ok going in on my own because I’m an I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T (do you know what that mean) woman but maybe I would feel differently if I had the option. Plus my mum has to spend a lot of time in the clinic’s parking lot.
In the wise words of Phoebe Buffay,
“Happy Christmas Eve Eve”
*Pretend it’s yesterday – I meant to post then but I had a rough lp, almost fainted, went to bed as soon as I got home and didn’t get a chance to hit publish and don’t want to take out my “Friends” reference . mmk thanks.