Sometimes it leaks through the cracks

Dearly beloved,

The following is just a kvetch and rant - I don't need you to do anything, I just need to get it out of my system.

I am tired, cross, and hating cancer and treatment, and everything that goes with it. If anything, for me, dealing with being on a steroid is at least as awful as being on chemotherapy, and it's looking like three more months of the steroid...and if this CT scan doesn't go so well tomorrow, I get to restart chemotherapy also.

The last two weeks have really sucked beyound belief. I had a seizure...I can't drive for three months. It took almost two weeks for them to get my e-mail going at work, so I'm behind just a little bit. We're trying to move in, paying bills, getting Tess going in 7th grade...and I feel like I'm gritting my teeth with exhaustion and rage every moment.

Last week I came down with a cold. The house is in chaos. Getting a cold is usually my body's way of saying, "Tougho lucko, kid, You are in bed for three days, and all that emotional baggage that you haven't been dealing with? HERE IT IS." Sooo, just for fun, on top of everything else, I was up a lot of the night, and what I mostly want to do is cry and kick things. Rage and grief, oh GOODY my two MOST favorite emotional states. (Sarchasm, and I do mean CHASM). I need some walnuts to crush, bottles to break, and large, dangerous firearms to discharge in a safe and remote environment. Anyone have a recommendation about dispelling anger in a way that doesn't slop it onto other people? Anyone got something they want blown up?

The steroid is rough because it causes emotional and mood side effects ALL of which I dislike in myself. Hypes me up. Makes it harder for me to listen. Puffs up my face which I KNOW sounds totally trivial, but in this strange way, its not, because it's a constant reminder, everytime I look in the mirror. Hullo, hyper cancer face! How are you? Bloating, weird appetite, irritability....I know part of the irritability is fromn the steroid - but I'm not sure that knowledge makes it any easier to manage, emotionally.

Not to mention the insomnia from hell. I average four hours of sleep at a time. Friday I slept for seven, and that's the first time I remember sleeping for seven consecutive hours since...probably mid-june, when I went on the steroid? At matinenda I was typically getting four at a stretch. So add constant sleep deprivation to the rest of the list.

I feel like I can cope with most physical side effects, but the mood and emotional stuff is a bit much. Stay the hell out of my PSYCHE, you drugs!

I cope and I cope and I cope. And right now I really wish I didn't have to. I know if I have to start chemo I'll manage. Waiting to find out is hateful.

I should know by the end of this week what the regimen is, and there's a chance that chemotherapy combined with the steroid will be slightly easier than either alone. ( I know, I know, unlikely - and if you know for sure, don't tell me. Idle hope is the last refuge of...)

But the layers get thick. Not the treatment itself, but the ripples out from it. I can't drive for a while - suddenly I have to find car pools, Tess has no pickup from ballet, any errand I have to do either on foot or bike...blah blah blah.



I just got eyebrows. I really don't care about hair, but I love having eyebrows.



I don't need any of you to do anything about this.

I just needed to vent, and have you nod, and either say we understand, or we don't really understand, because we aren't in your shoes, but it's okay for you to tell us this, to let us see the rage and grief, as well as the courage and tomfoolery.

The other thing is next time we bump into each other, if it's just the two of us, ask me if I need a half an hour to vent. I tend to mostly keep this state to myself with more than one person around, so from my end it requires a quiet cup of tea, not a party. And while I'm at it, if you don't know me personally, ask someone around you, who is dealing with chronic disease, if they need to vent. You might be surprised by what you learn.

No rest for the wicked

So it's been a bit of an exciting day. I unfortunately had a seizure this morning. (Luckily I DIDN'T have it while driving I-80 to work...)

My right arm started to twitch, and I was having trouble typing. I went into the bathroom to take one of the drugs, and then my right arm REALLY started to twitch - it was jumping up and down..I also started to get dizzy. I went in to the kitchen to call 911, and by the time I got there I was losing my balance. I started to dial with my right hand, and realized it wouldn't work. I dialed 911 with my left, and then my whole right side went out from under me. I heard the dispatcher asking what was wrong, and then it was like a huge electrical shock.

Next thing I knew, there were seven GINORMOUS policemen at the door - all the dispatcher heard was me yelling before I passed out, so they were expecting a home invasion. I managed to bite the hell out of my tongue, too.

No doubt Village Homes has not seen that many cop cars in a while - five, and two fire trucks - way to make an impressin on the new neighbors. So I went to Sutter in a ambulance with a VERY cute paramedic and a grumpy blond paramedic, and had another CT scan, and the swelling around the brain tumor is back up.

Fallout -
I can't drive until the Doc and the DMV clear me. Dog my cats and rowrbazzle.

If I have another one, I'm supposed to lay down on my side until it's over, and then head for the ER. I'm on a new anti-seizure med, so hopefully it won't be an issue, but the driving will.


So other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?

I'm a little frustrated. I was really wishing for a short BREAK from medical foo foo raw.

Cheers,
Chris