The Death guy in The Seventh Seal was on the corner of 20th and Santa Monica Boulevard yesterday looking for ME. Luckily Dr. Melanie Shaum locked the door of her office so he couldn't get in. So I had my fourth chemo yesterday and all seemed to be going well. My outfit was not the greatest choice but it was a nice color. Periwinkle blue, I think you'd call it. My hair was a mess but I don't think anyone noticed or cared. At least I had my hair. I sat there for a few hours while the poison dripped into my arm, which is now quite tingly, like it's asleep and typing is not easy but here I am. I read a bit, I thought a bit and then finally they unplugged me and I walked out the door into the cool air and suddenly I could not breath. I could not take an inward breath. Hmmmm. This can't be good. I took a puff of my albuteral inhaler but that didn't seem to help so I went back inside where they stuck another IV into my other arm and shot me up with steroids and benedryl. And then I was fine. Seems like I had an allergic reaction to the chemo. Happens sometimes, they said. Have to change your last two chemos. Might lose some hair. But not the whole thing. So does that mean just a clump at the top? A clump on the side? I actually could stand to lose some on my arms. Maybe that will happen.
WHO AM I KIDDING! I may be having the worst bad luck streak of anyone I know right now except the poor people living in what was once Burma or the children in Africa. And I have got to get past this bad luck streak and I am determined to get past it, dammit! I like being here on earth. It took me forever to become a happy person but now I am happy and for some reason I keep getting crap thrown into my face. I smile and then, BLAM, a pound of crap is tossed at me. But by whom? Whom shall I turn around and yell at..."Stop it! Just stop it you asshole! Leave me alone. And take your stupidass crap with you!"
But luck is the word, isn't it? It's just good luck or bad luck. It's all random. Where you're born, how your life goes. Okay, this has nothing to do with anything but this morning I woke up and switched on the tv and there were these annoying people laughing. Just laughing and having a grand old time and I couldn't figure out why they were so happy and probably the reason is that they haven't had any bad luck lately. And I immediately hated these people and changed the channel but there seemed to be laughing people on all the channels because I guess some people in America wake up laughing a lot. I laugh a lot. These days it's more of a dark, sardonic laugh. Like, oh fuck, I can't breath, I'm going to die. And then the first thing that I thought of was that I was wearing the wrong clothes. I did not want to die in periwinkle blue. It's way too precious. Black, maybe, orange. Cannot die in this blue hoodie. And so I didn't. So maybe I do have some control over things. Maybe if I wear that hoodie everyday I will never die.
I am staring at the chemo pills I am supposed to take. Boy, do I not want to take them. What if I don't. Nobody knows anything, right? Nothings a guarantee, that's what they told me. I'm thinking about NOT taking them. I'm thinking about running away and taking on a whole new identity. Yeah, that's the ticket. If I become someone else maybe that someone wouldn't have crap tossed in her face all the time. Maybe that someone would be going through a lucky streak right now. Maybe I could be...Julie Rosenstein...No, too ethnic...How about Julie Daily...Yeah. that's it. I'll run away and become Julie Daily. Julie doesn't have to do chemo. Julie is almost finished writing her novel. Julie is in fantastic shape and can swim a mile without getting tired. Oh, I love Julie.
Julie's tingly hand would not be getting tired now but mine is. I wonder what Julie wears? I am sure not anything in periwinkle blue.