I don't know if it's my generally pallid colouring, or if it's the fact that I've recently buzzed my hair shorter than ever, but I feel like I actually look like a "cancer victim" these days.
Could just be that I feel like absolute crap after chemo#11.
I have bright spots where I get stuff done -- I've swept today... That's kind of an accomplishment... But my batteries are much too drained to actually get out of the house and go to work. I guess this week's a coma week, and next week I'll play catch-up.
I had really messed up dreams last night. I dreamt I was swimming to Montreal (...??), and all was going well, until I got trapped under some fallen pillars and began to drown. When I got my heart rate back down and fell back asleep, I guess I made it to Montreal, and was shooting a music video for the Beastie Boys, all the while stealing donuts and playing with a Batarang.
I want a Batarang. Donuts, not so much.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Apr. 29
Eleven rounds of chemo down.
Had visit with the doc on Monday. She says I very well might end up with an additional four rounds, bringing my total to 16. Not happy.
Will redo CT and gallium scan. Foremost, gallium must show no cancer. Then, I can only hope that CT will show no decrease. No decrease means that lymph nodes are the size they are, and chemo is not affecting that anymore. That means chemo's done all it can do, and it's up to the body to reabsorb scar tissue. That means chemo ends on the 12th of May.
If lymph nodes decreased, then I need the extra four rounds, because chemo is still working, just too fucking slow.
Not happy.
If gallium shows cancer, then, well, then I'm fucked.
Stick this in your ear:
Crystal Castles - Crimewave
Does it Offend You, Yeah? - Being Bad Feels Pretty Good
Does it Offend You, Yeah? - We Are Rockstars
Also, Crank: High Voltage is great.
Had visit with the doc on Monday. She says I very well might end up with an additional four rounds, bringing my total to 16. Not happy.
Will redo CT and gallium scan. Foremost, gallium must show no cancer. Then, I can only hope that CT will show no decrease. No decrease means that lymph nodes are the size they are, and chemo is not affecting that anymore. That means chemo's done all it can do, and it's up to the body to reabsorb scar tissue. That means chemo ends on the 12th of May.
If lymph nodes decreased, then I need the extra four rounds, because chemo is still working, just too fucking slow.
Not happy.
If gallium shows cancer, then, well, then I'm fucked.
Stick this in your ear:
Crystal Castles - Crimewave
Does it Offend You, Yeah? - Being Bad Feels Pretty Good
Does it Offend You, Yeah? - We Are Rockstars
Also, Crank: High Voltage is great.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Apr. 22
So, it's confirmed. My grandfather has stomach cancer. Also, somewhere along the chain of info, things got messed up -- my grandmother doesn't have Parkinson's, she has Alzheimer's. I had to crack up at the fact that someone along the way essentially "forgot" the Alzheimer's diagnosis. Then again, I laugh at some pretty grim things. I always used to say, "Armand puts the FUN back in FUNERAL."
I'm tired of all this. So, so, very tired. I just really don't want cancer in my life anymore... I understand it's just something that happens -- everyone has to die of something -- but I just don't want to deal with it anymore. I never got involved with I'm Too Young For This because it never felt right. I don't like being apart of a group just because I happen to fall within its parameters for membership. Although it's just more bitching about cancer, I choose to read the "cancer blogs" I follow because of something that has to do with the writers, not their illness.
I'm fatigued. My skin has had it with me. I think it will soon just abandon me and find a healthier host who will treat it nicer. I am not as petrified of chemo #11 as I was of #10, because the last one went quite easy, but I don't want to go see my doctor again. I don't want to sit around for hours on end, waiting for poison to filter into me. I don't want to answer questions about my body. I want to forget about my body, actually... Yeah, that'd be nice.
Ah well. Trapped in space and time, here I am.
Yesterday, despite craptacular news, Melissa and I actually had a pretty fun time. She had the day off work, so I took it off as well, so we could get a bunch of stuff done around the house. The bookcase I've been threatening to assemble for the past two weeks is still in pieces, but the living room is almost livable. There are no more empty boxes and bags and whatnot, sitting all over the place. We took a run out to to a couple of second-hand stores to drop off a bunch of things we needed to jettison. Went by a fabric store to look at potential drapery for the living room (oh yeah, pure white douppioni silk to go with red and espresso furniture? I think so). All the while, had yummy eats and planned out the rest of the apartment in excruciating detail.
*sigh* I'm sometimes puzzled by the things which bring me joy.
I'm tired of all this. So, so, very tired. I just really don't want cancer in my life anymore... I understand it's just something that happens -- everyone has to die of something -- but I just don't want to deal with it anymore. I never got involved with I'm Too Young For This because it never felt right. I don't like being apart of a group just because I happen to fall within its parameters for membership. Although it's just more bitching about cancer, I choose to read the "cancer blogs" I follow because of something that has to do with the writers, not their illness.
I'm fatigued. My skin has had it with me. I think it will soon just abandon me and find a healthier host who will treat it nicer. I am not as petrified of chemo #11 as I was of #10, because the last one went quite easy, but I don't want to go see my doctor again. I don't want to sit around for hours on end, waiting for poison to filter into me. I don't want to answer questions about my body. I want to forget about my body, actually... Yeah, that'd be nice.
Ah well. Trapped in space and time, here I am.
Yesterday, despite craptacular news, Melissa and I actually had a pretty fun time. She had the day off work, so I took it off as well, so we could get a bunch of stuff done around the house. The bookcase I've been threatening to assemble for the past two weeks is still in pieces, but the living room is almost livable. There are no more empty boxes and bags and whatnot, sitting all over the place. We took a run out to to a couple of second-hand stores to drop off a bunch of things we needed to jettison. Went by a fabric store to look at potential drapery for the living room (oh yeah, pure white douppioni silk to go with red and espresso furniture? I think so). All the while, had yummy eats and planned out the rest of the apartment in excruciating detail.
*sigh* I'm sometimes puzzled by the things which bring me joy.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Apr. 20
I had a strange revelation today...
If I were any other species, I would be dead by now. I mean, there's no chemotherapy for slugs. If a slug got cancer, it'd be one dead slug. Hell, even as a human being, I'm alive only because I happen to be in a part of the world, and in the right conditions, that I can receive treatment. Usually, when it comes to health and illness, you either get better, or you don't. I "should not" have gotten better. I would not, had it not been for outside intervention. I guess the same applies for inoculation from childhood illnesses and the like, but I can't help but feel as though in a way I've cheated death.. Like I was supposed to be part of the "early death rate" -- some statistic of sorts... I feel like I'm in a shitty film, expecting death to hunt me down now.
Or maybe I'm just crazy. Either's possible.
I'm also kind of frustrated with the all too slow progress I'm seeing from going to the gym. Then again, my diet is pretty lousy. Oh well. I'll be all healthy when I can safely say I've made cancer my bitch.
Good night, sleep tight. Hiss hiss, I'm in your muffler.
If I were any other species, I would be dead by now. I mean, there's no chemotherapy for slugs. If a slug got cancer, it'd be one dead slug. Hell, even as a human being, I'm alive only because I happen to be in a part of the world, and in the right conditions, that I can receive treatment. Usually, when it comes to health and illness, you either get better, or you don't. I "should not" have gotten better. I would not, had it not been for outside intervention. I guess the same applies for inoculation from childhood illnesses and the like, but I can't help but feel as though in a way I've cheated death.. Like I was supposed to be part of the "early death rate" -- some statistic of sorts... I feel like I'm in a shitty film, expecting death to hunt me down now.
Or maybe I'm just crazy. Either's possible.
I'm also kind of frustrated with the all too slow progress I'm seeing from going to the gym. Then again, my diet is pretty lousy. Oh well. I'll be all healthy when I can safely say I've made cancer my bitch.
Good night, sleep tight. Hiss hiss, I'm in your muffler.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Apr. 19
So sleepy...
Here's life, in point form.
- Fatigue is starting to affect day-to-day functioning. Early nights are common. Gym visits are shorter.
- Chemo #10 was actually pretty easy on me. No hurling. No major misery the days after.
- I'm turning into a fucking recluse.
- The new place is coming along slowly. There's a ton of work to do still, but we're grossly limited by time... and energy...
- Apologies to those I've ignored -- in "real life", or just here in the old blogosphere
- I want to learn to program for the iPhone
- I'm so sick of "the cancer".
I'm sick of "the cancer", and here are three reasons, in chronological order.
- I hate the treatment.
- I no longer identify with the illness, or with being ill.
- I found out that my paternal grandfather is suspected of having stomach cancer.
Found that last bit out on the same day (today), as the day I learned that my maternal grandmother has been recently diagnosed with Parkinson's.
You know what, life? Fuck you. Fuck you hard.
-- a million years ago, there was a skit on Conan O'Brien, where they replaced the words "excuse me" with yelling "AH-BAH!".
I want to shove into people, yelling "AH-BAH!"
Here's life, in point form.
- Fatigue is starting to affect day-to-day functioning. Early nights are common. Gym visits are shorter.
- Chemo #10 was actually pretty easy on me. No hurling. No major misery the days after.
- I'm turning into a fucking recluse.
- The new place is coming along slowly. There's a ton of work to do still, but we're grossly limited by time... and energy...
- Apologies to those I've ignored -- in "real life", or just here in the old blogosphere
- I want to learn to program for the iPhone
- I'm so sick of "the cancer".
I'm sick of "the cancer", and here are three reasons, in chronological order.
- I hate the treatment.
- I no longer identify with the illness, or with being ill.
- I found out that my paternal grandfather is suspected of having stomach cancer.
Found that last bit out on the same day (today), as the day I learned that my maternal grandmother has been recently diagnosed with Parkinson's.
You know what, life? Fuck you. Fuck you hard.
-- a million years ago, there was a skit on Conan O'Brien, where they replaced the words "excuse me" with yelling "AH-BAH!".
I want to shove into people, yelling "AH-BAH!"
Monday, April 13, 2009
Apr. 13
Taking a quick break at work, and thus blogging. I think we've got an internet connection now, but haven't had the chance to test that.
I'm so sick of the cancer stuff... Thoughts of treatment send me into full panic, and the stress of it is getting to me. My stomach hurts again a fair bit. That may also be attributed to the lactose bit. Seems lactaid isn't doing the trick anymore, and I end up with the worst stomach pain, regardless.
I only have to think of chemo #9 tomorrow, and I start freaking out... I'll be doping up on ativan and benadryl, and I'll hopefully just sleep through everything. Three more... Three more... Just three more. As of yesterday, I'll be done in a month.
I was talking to a friend, and he made a passing comment -- "...you have cancer"... Hearing it in present tense seemed wrong. I haven't been told that I'm in remission, but I just can't conceive the thought of me still being sick.
I've decided that, for better or worse, if I require additional chemotherapy, I will elect to take a break for one month. If they don't like it, I just won't go. I have no idea how I'm going to get through three more treatments, as is. I need a break. My body needs a break. My mind needs a break. One more month.
Once again, I am so very thankful for all the help and support I've been receiving from everybody -- thank you. I could not do this without all your support.
I'm so sick of the cancer stuff... Thoughts of treatment send me into full panic, and the stress of it is getting to me. My stomach hurts again a fair bit. That may also be attributed to the lactose bit. Seems lactaid isn't doing the trick anymore, and I end up with the worst stomach pain, regardless.
I only have to think of chemo #9 tomorrow, and I start freaking out... I'll be doping up on ativan and benadryl, and I'll hopefully just sleep through everything. Three more... Three more... Just three more. As of yesterday, I'll be done in a month.
I was talking to a friend, and he made a passing comment -- "...you have cancer"... Hearing it in present tense seemed wrong. I haven't been told that I'm in remission, but I just can't conceive the thought of me still being sick.
I've decided that, for better or worse, if I require additional chemotherapy, I will elect to take a break for one month. If they don't like it, I just won't go. I have no idea how I'm going to get through three more treatments, as is. I need a break. My body needs a break. My mind needs a break. One more month.
Once again, I am so very thankful for all the help and support I've been receiving from everybody -- thank you. I could not do this without all your support.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Apr. 06
Why hello again.
So it's 3 in the morning, and I can't sleep. So I'm doing work, and I figure I'll duck out from actual work work early tomorrow, instead. Maybe catch up on sleep.
We painted the living room (behind me) white. No longer babyshit yellow. We've assembled furniture (some of which is behind me. Go go gadget crappy IKEA bookshelf). There is much work to do.
Blogging will likely continue to be scarce, as I spend most of my time at the new place, and we don't have the internet hooked up yet. I'm currently just being a good neighbour, and stealing someone else's connection. However, it craps out every few seconds, and even when it works, it's slow as all hell.
A note regarding my last entry. I forgot to mention Wendy. Wendy helped with the move. I'm an ass-troll for forgetting that. Wendy, you get to punch me in the arm.
Okay. Back to work. Only three hours until the first alarm goes off.
Oh, last note... Out the very large window to my right (heehee!), I can see something dreadful. It's snowing! Snowing! No moooore!!! I think a good chunk of why I want chemotherapy to be over is because by then, at least the weather will be nice again!
So it's 3 in the morning, and I can't sleep. So I'm doing work, and I figure I'll duck out from actual work work early tomorrow, instead. Maybe catch up on sleep.
We painted the living room (behind me) white. No longer babyshit yellow. We've assembled furniture (some of which is behind me. Go go gadget crappy IKEA bookshelf). There is much work to do.
Blogging will likely continue to be scarce, as I spend most of my time at the new place, and we don't have the internet hooked up yet. I'm currently just being a good neighbour, and stealing someone else's connection. However, it craps out every few seconds, and even when it works, it's slow as all hell.
A note regarding my last entry. I forgot to mention Wendy. Wendy helped with the move. I'm an ass-troll for forgetting that. Wendy, you get to punch me in the arm.
Okay. Back to work. Only three hours until the first alarm goes off.
Oh, last note... Out the very large window to my right (heehee!), I can see something dreadful. It's snowing! Snowing! No moooore!!! I think a good chunk of why I want chemotherapy to be over is because by then, at least the weather will be nice again!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Apr. 02
Hah. Not dead yet.
First off, I'd like to thank everyone for the encouragement I've received in regards to the medical news. I find it hard to be as optimistic as most others, as I was quite honestly hoping for a clear remission. But I guess we'll see, in a month and a half.
Moved on the 30th. Much work to do. Thanks to my father and sister, as well as (alphabetically) Corrine, Deltcho, Michael, and the Steves. If I forgot anyone, please blame it on...
Chemo #9. Slept some 30 hours, almost straight through, after that. Very bad. Very very bad.
First off, I'd like to thank everyone for the encouragement I've received in regards to the medical news. I find it hard to be as optimistic as most others, as I was quite honestly hoping for a clear remission. But I guess we'll see, in a month and a half.
Moved on the 30th. Much work to do. Thanks to my father and sister, as well as (alphabetically) Corrine, Deltcho, Michael, and the Steves. If I forgot anyone, please blame it on...
Chemo #9. Slept some 30 hours, almost straight through, after that. Very bad. Very very bad.
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