Sunday, April 6, 2008

I'll Have A Chemopolitan...With A Twist

THIS SUCKS! Big time. For the last week I have been living in a wave of nausea that will not go away and before I even have time to recover from last Monday's chemo here comes Monday again tomorrow with another damn dose and last Friday I had to go in to get an anti-nausea drip for three hours that didn't really work for more than a moment and there were two bald women who were so sick of doing chemo that they were about to play hooky for a few months and go on some exotic trip around the world. They were not sure it was all worth it because in both cases the cancer had come back and they had to endure the whole thing all over again. And I'm sitting there thinking is it worth it at all just to get a few extra months (if that's you get) because during those months you just feel sick and you can't jump in the ocean so what is the point?

And I lay there on the couch and start freaking out about one of those memorials that I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE because these days I can feel people trying to peek into my window to see what kind of shape I'm in. "I hear she looks awful. She can't eat" "She looks like death." "How long does she have?" I know people who have died and they have had these memorials where people talk about you and some people who talk you may not even like and even though you're dead it is just so embarrassing.

And on top of everything the dishwasher broke and leaked all over the kitchen floor and that opened up my anger control switch about the man formerly known as my husband who lives in his nice clean bachelor apartment with a landlord who will take care of his damn dishwasher whenever it goes kerplooey and then I realized how much I want to move out of this house into one that is my very, very own painted in MY colors with only MY stuff in it and my son's stuff and...

By the way, my son was a Prince, as usual, at my last chemo. Sat there with me, held my hand, watched me vomit, stroked my hair, made me laugh and that is not easy.

There have been times when I was in the middle of throwing up that I just wanted to have a heart attack and fall on the bathroom floor and get this over with. Enough. Enough already. And then I'd brush my teeth and get back on the couch and pick up a book and I'd read something, like a great sentence, so I'd read on because I was pretty sure that I was going to find another great sentence if I kept on reading and I suppose that's a reason to carry on. But I miss my other self and what we used to do, like swim and eat turkey burgers and I know some
things will never be the same and that just completely bums me out. (Now that, by the way, was a lousy sentence. If I had read that after brushing my teeth I surely would have ended things right there and then.)

I think I'm very close to being divorced. I say "I think" because I have these papers on my desk that "I think" I'm supposed to sign or at least peruse (did I spell that correctly?) and they came the day I did my last chemo and you know what I'm realizing as I write this...That I CANNOT fall onto the bathroom floor until I get completely divorced. There we go. That is a much more important reason to hang in there...Way more important than reading a good sentence.

"I get the willies behind closed doors." Phooey on that. "Please, sign on the bottom line and your marriage will be dissolved." Yahoo. I can breath. I'm finally free.

You know, I feel better already. Ready for my chemo, Mr. DeMille.............................


Anonymous said...

Well, I think signing your divorce papers should and will make you feel better - at least for a little while! I'm glad you have your son with you at chemo; it is better than being alone. Glad you felt well enough to update on blog.

Take care, Anne

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

It really sounds like shit, Trish...And all the vomiting and nausea...The Worst!
I feel for my dear and wish I could do or say something to at the very least, make you laugh....!
At the moment, I cannot think of one funny thing....Sorry my dear....!
I hope your dear son will be able to go with you tomorrow, too....Or if not him, Myrna...Or someone who is comforting and filled witb lots of love for you!
I think signing those papers will lift a weight off of you that might bring a tiny bit of relief....Oh, know it won't change the effects of The hemo...(Or maybe it will....!) But this will be an albatross into the Garbage Can!
I send you Big Hugs, dear Trish.....
And thinking of you with all my mind and my heart.

Leslie said...

Pooch, Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. You're going through hell and I wish I could be there to hug you. When the nausea wears off and if you really want to make that move to a new place, I'll come down to L.A. to help. Hang in there as I don't think it can get much worse.



Mima said...

I'm so glad that you were feeling well enough to update your blog and let us all know how you are doing, even if that isn't brilliant at the moment. Sorry that you are having such a tough time of it with the chemo. I can't imagine what it must be like to go through this, but I am sending all my very best and I hope that the next dose isn't as bad.

Marlene said...

Shit was a good word to describe what you’re going through, and I’m just talking about the dishwasher at this point. However, no one has used this word yet: Bastard. I know it takes two, blah, blah, blah, but shit, this totally sucks and I’m just talking about the person giving you the chemo. Sure it’s needed to save your life – thankfully, your writing saves your soul and your son saves your sanity.

All I can think of are those damn caterpillars. They start out fairly grubby but then go through this incredible metamorphous. It’s gotta hurt, but when they’re through, my God, they’re the most beautiful, free-flying life forms on earth. Please let today’s chemo go quickly and surprisingly easy for you.

Lyla said...

Can you pour a martini in your feeding tube? Between that and the pain patch, you might even want to bear all this.

gary said...

"Hey Martin Luther KIng...I had a dream too!"

RE: The memorial you don't want to have...


Coincidentally, the night before you posted this last blog, I had a dream about a memorial for you. While I continue to long to visit with you or at the very least hear your voice, I fully undestand your needs and desires. And in my dream, I thought, 'I'm really not all that interested in attending a memorial service with your other friends and loved ones to celebrate what a wonderful person you were.' I wanted to celebrate and rejoice with you now, to support you...while you are of this plane. So, in that dream, I arranged to have a memorial for the living...One that you could attend. In that dream state, I hoped that NOW, maybe Trish will come out and play.

Sending you love and good thoughts.

Simply Scarlet said...

Well, I'm pulling for more moments that make you want to read on because hope and humor will get you through anything. Some days are just not funny though, like this one, and you're just left w/ hope. I hope you have a better day tomorrow.

BTW, loved the title of this post. Now that's funny.

JS said...


I second Gary's post. You have so many people who are honoring your wishes to keep away during this. I hope you know who we all are and that we love and support you and want to be of service to you. You are an inspiration and we'd love to help right now. I know what a shit sandwich it is. Let the love in.

Big love,

gary said...

"They say it's your birthday...!!!"

If memory serves me, and these days it doesn't, I do recall that April 15th, is in fact, your birthday. And I thought, 'How can WE all celebrate?'.
( You're probably thinking to yourself..."Why does this man not go away and leave me in peace?") Then I remembered that in the late '80's there was the Harmonic Convergence...A world wide event to usher in the beginning of the new age. People gathered at mystical sites like Stonehenge, and Sadonna, AZ. to participate in the celebration. Well we don't have to go to any exotic locations...On April 15th, We can just send you our love and white light from Starbucks or Whole Foods or from our downward facing dog positions or wherever we happen to be. Then it came to me, as if in a dream...So I knew it must be important. We can take a page out of Peter Pan. When Tinkerbell deliberately takes 'poison' (Which you have done with your Chemo- cocktail), she declares that if all the little children believe in fairies and clap their hands, it will restore her to health. So I propose that on April 15th at noon we all start clapping...and who knows, it may swell to thunderous applause and even a standing ovation. (Chanting, "I do believe in Trish...I do believe in Trish", is optional.)

Happy Birthday!!! Now make a wish...

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

Hey Trish...Just checking in to see how you faired this week...Just sending you some White Light and some Big Hugs, Too!

CHERIBEE said...



Roberta J. said...

I second Cherie's comments! I know this isn't your best birthday ever, but hopefully next year will be! Feel better and know there are lots of old and new friends out here rooting for you!


Roberta Johnson Leon

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

Darling Dear Sweet Trish...I didn't know this was your Birthday!! WOW!
Well, I know, if indeed this is your Birthday, it is no doubt the shitiest one, ever...BUT, I still want to wish you something on this, your Natal Day...(If Gary is correct...)
So....I wish that that friggin' cancer goes bye bye, forever, IMMEDIATELY...!
I Wish: That all the pain and horror that you are living through stops, now. RIGHT NOW!
I send you much Big Love, my dear Trish....And Huge Hugs, too!

Lyla said...

Happy Birthday, Trish. Now the worst birthday you'll ever have is out of the way. Onward to better days.