All righty, this is two days after I walked the dog and one day after my first chemo. And thank goodness this is not the type of chemo where your hair falls out and that is such a good thing because scarves are not a good look for me. I look like one of those apple dolls from Rumania. So hooray for something.
Yesterday I got up at six, swam at the outdoor Y pool that I love, then came home to get ready for the treatment. I don't know what is wrong with me but I spent at least a half an hour deciding what to wear...To chemo! This looks horrible, the colors not right, it's too young for me...And then the shoes don't even ask about them. But I finally chose white since it was the first day of summer and I thought black was too on the money and off I went to get poisoned.
This has all happened very quickly and I realize that some of you didn't even know about the diagnosis that happened about three weeks ago or about the vaginal ultrasound that was the most fun I've had since my husband left me in September. And I'm sure a lot of you are fainting now about that news so you can imagine how I felt when they told me I didn't just have a tiny stomach ache, I had a tumor. Malignant at that. On my stomach. But it's small, which is good and there seems to be no cancer anywhere else and I will have a smaller stomach when this is all over and that can't be a bad thing. We all want that, right?
(No DeNiro news today except that he had cancer but I don't think it was because of me.)
So I went to the office and sat in one of those barcaloungers with all these other sweet people at different fazes in the process. And I had an IV drip poison into me for four hours. It was very strange because I went in feeling so good and it seemed insane to have people make me feel bad. But you trust these people when they tell you have a tumor but I'm sitting there thinking...Maybe they're lying! Maybe they just want to make money, sell drugs, make strong women weak! And that's what I thought about for four hours. I know I was supposed to relax and listen to calming tapes and do inner traveling but no, all I wanted to do was to run out and see Sicko because I know Michael Moore is right and I'm a human guinea pig right now!
But I did it. And today, the day after, I feel a little tired and my arm hurts and I can't go into the fridge because it's some weird side effect, a sensitivity to cold. And I can't seem to eat anything but hummus. Maybe they injected me with some Greek concoction. Maybe I should rent Zorba tonight.
Okay, I think I've reached the end for today. There's always tomorrow. Oh my God, I'm writing cliches now. I know they put something awful in that drip.
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4 comments:
Trish--
I love you so much that maybe now is the time to meld into my Margaret Mead moment...You are the bomb, and I will be bringing you more hummus and some soup for the weekend.
Joy
Hi Trish,
Joy led me to your blog. I am in awe of your insights, your courage, your humor, and inclusiveness.
Fondly,
Amy Spies
Trish,
A bit of advice about your cancer: GET OVER IT!
Cheers,
CB
Again, you made me laugh out loyd!
I love you Trish!
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