Falling Down a Rabbit Hole
It’s Monday. I’ve lost a full week. I’m sitting up and made my own bagel for breakfast after enjoying several trips to the bathroom to pee, which since Dana is gone, is a celebration each and every time. I’m working on scheduling doctor appointments and getting up the energy to leap (that’s a fucking exaggeration – I am not leaping anywhere anytime soon,) I am happy just to move forward without falling or gagging or wretching. I puked more in the last week that I did throughout both times I did chemo. Which is a special time when you have a catheter and a nephrostemy, because you may not know, all that shits connected in bizarre ways, and that nephrostemy tube in my back moves in and out as my kidney moves, so when your stomach is twisted up and hurling all that ice water back you just drank back into the sink, it’s also trying to simultaneously push out the catheter and the nephrostemy tube, which being sewn into your kidney and back is being torn out unless you put your hand on it to hold it still. This feat, called contortionism, requires that you twist your right arm completely around in your socket to put your palm on the bandage. This leaves your left arm available for all of the following: keeping you from slamming your face into the sink or holding your stomach, or covering your mouth if you are on your way to puke again all while making sure you don’t step on Dana or get it caught on something. Fucking phenomenal. Then you can try to brush your teeth and hope it doesn’t spawn a new round of hurling. This is followed by return to bed, where you freeze, sweat, freeze and then not be able to figure out of if you’re freezing or on fire. Only ginger beer brings a smidgen of relief. I didn’t even want to sit up long enough to medicate with my fine herbal medication.
So here it is Monday. I’ll eventually write more. For now, I’m sorry if I missed your birthday, or ignored your text, or message or didn’t respond with appropriate enthusiasm to something you said or did, I’m sorry. I went to see my brother and his wife and spend the whole time puking in their bathroom and spreading disease. Today is the first time I even opened the laptop in five days. I’ve spent more of the last week crying and wishing I could just die than I have the last 10 years. And now I’m about to make an appointment with palliative care, the call I never even thought I’d be making.
That said, OWTH was fucking amazing, as they always are, as was spending time with the Erica, and Denise and every one else. Ryan, I hope I can get a bunny shirt on Friday at the D4 show. I’m going to stop now, because I realized I am purposefully avoiding making this phone call. And at some point, I’m gonna need to shower and get in the car and get some sun on my face. Be well. Love each other, and get all the hugs you can. Even if it spreads plague.
This entry was posted on 5 October 15 by dpecky. It was filed under c-monster, Philosophizings, Profound Insights and was tagged with cancer, carnivorous kangaroo, cyst, doctors, endometrial cancer, flying monkeys, palliative, pufferfish, side effects, survival.