Yuck

Couldn't think of a better title for this post. It about sums up the current state of affairs. If I don't post for awhile that either means I feel pretty good or, in this case, that I feel pretty lousy. I am also feeling distinctly sorry for myself this morning, which is ridiculous when all I have to do is read the front page of the newspaper to know I am much better off than many many people. I tried to add up all the things I have to be grateful for in my head this morning but my brain was sluggish and was much happier whimpering.

Yesterday. I managed to shower, get dressed, and take Ernie around the cul-de-sac with Mike. I also made phone calls to various places to try to locate a cream that my doctor wants me to use to prevent the rash on my hands that I got after the first infusion. It's called "Udder Cream" and I finally located it at Ace Hardware of all places. Having located it meant going to get it and there's where the day started to fall apart (and it was only 8:30 AM). I have several scarves now, but none of them looked right to me and my baseball hat didn't match my shirt. My KISA says I'm beautiful in a paper bag with or without hair, and that it doesn't matter if the scarves and hats don't match my shirt. But it matters to me because I am trying hard to look normal, to feel pretty, to not feel like the blob I see in the mirror. Clothes should be coordinated, hats, scarves, earrings, shirts...and after trying on various shirts with various scarves, I rip the latest off my head and stomp on it. I feel marginally better after that. The scarf is none the worse for its beating but I am still bald. I finally suck it up, throw on a black shirt, and a pink scarf. By the time we're back from the hardware store and the coffee bus (where else?), I am feeling worse and worse. When we get home, I change into sweats and a fluffy hat and can't finish my coffee. I can feel my body losing the battle for the day.

There is just no getting around the fact that the drugs sap you completely at the same time as the steroids they give you for delayed nausea make your body hum. It is this odd catch-22 where you feel like you are bouncing off the walls but sometimes you don't have the energy to even make your mouth form words. Needless to say, you can't sleep even though you're tired and reading and other intellectual activities are projects that seem to take place through a veil. You know your head is not quite grasping things and the next thing you know, the book you were reading has slipped out of your hands because you're too tired to hold it. You then realize that you haven't eaten much today so you have some bread. A little while later you realize maybe bread wasn't the right thing. Despite not wanting to, you take an anti-nausea pill. It does help but only adds to the drugs that are piled up in your system.

You try to get up and do something (tidy up, play with the dog, water plants) but in two seconds flat, you're exhausted. It occurs to you that having the TV on might help because then you at least feel like you might be doing something other than lying completely inert. Dozing through Bad Bad Bath on HGTV, Sugar Rush on the Food Network (I did wake up when they showed the monkey bread), and the Stepford Wives made the day go by a commercial at a time. That is...it was a long long day yesterday...a day of just waiting for my body to figure out how to overcome what it has been blasted with. I finally fell really asleep after dinner, around 6:30, woke up an hour later and was in bed by 8 - didn't wake up for good until 6:30 this morning. Still, there is something humorous in seeing Bette Midler and Glenn Close as Stepford Wives. The day wasn't a total loss.

Today. Today is better than yesterday so far, although I can feel the aches coming back in my arms and fingers as I type. I didn't have enough energy for a walk this morning but I'll try later. It could have had more to do with the "pity-party" for one I was having. I didn't feel like eating but knew I should, then couldn't think what to eat because nothing sounded good. The drugs coat your tongue for a few days and nothing tastes right. I ate cinnamon toast and a banana but neither one tasted like food. Hmmm...I think the pity-party may still be going on! How about that?! What I need is a pinata shaped like a giant cancer cell. Then I could whack the heck out of it - and everyone knows that once pinatas are broken, good things come out.