Side Effects- Cancer Can Suck a Dick

I’ve had a headache now for about four days.  It hurts some days to sit up, let alone stand up.  I can’t have Tylenol.  Oxycodone makes me puke.  So you just sleep and hope it goes away.  Sometimes it does.. sometimes it doesn’t.

There is a whooshing sound in my head/ears.  Everything sounds tinny at times.  Listening to music sounds weird.  It’s become a point of why bother?

My throat became so swollen that I couldn’t talk or swallow.  I missed out on stuffing my face with lots of Thanksgiving goodness.  In fact my espohagus is still pretty sore when I swallow.  I have to still take tiny bites and chew and chew so I can swallow comfortably.  The Dr’s want me to start drinking that Ensure crap because they seem to think I have no appetite.  They are mistaken.  I can’t even begin to tell you how much I want all the food in my face.

My hair has begun to fall out.   Today alone I brushed the amount of a small Pomeranian off my head.  It just wouldn’t stop.  Tomorrow I am just shaving it off.  Ironically enough, every other body hair is hanging steadfastly on.

It’s really the above that is kind of driving me a bit batty.  Making me a bit whiny.   A lot whiny.  I feel at times that I’ve come so far, that all of the above is nothing compared to the grand scheme of things.    This is the cake walk.   The chemo is done.  I’m just biding time till I build back up my white blood cells to see where we are with things.   But it’s also the above that act like a mosquito in the room that attacks you while you’re asleep.  Flying by your ear, buzzing loudly and feasting upon your blood unbeknownst to you.  Leaving you to wake in the morning with itchy welts upon your skin.

Dick mosquito.

This has been the part of the journey that has been the most tested.  My patience at least.  I’m longing to get back to somewhat of what was my life before all this.  Especially the eating part.  I want food.  Did I mention this?  I’m kind of over being “sick” and dealing with all the side effects and treatments.  It’s old and boring and you know…I have stuff to do.

Yes.  Yes.  I knew there would be these…side effects.  Yes.  Yes.. I knew my hair would fall out.  But until it happens, you can never really gauge how you will react till you’re in that moment, pulling wad after wad of hair out of your brush asking when will it just stop coming out?   I think I am more upset at the rate it came out today.  Not that I’m actually losing it.  But we shall see how I feel tomorrow when the clippers come out.

But chin up.  Looking sharp I shall.  Cause that’s all one can do at this point.  I can’t get to defeated or too whiny.  It’s just a day.  And tomorrow is another day.  And each day, each moment actually, is just one more moment closer for me to not having to deal with any of this bullshit.

My recovery is now.  In fact my recovery started the moment I became sick.

And that’s the only way I choose to look at this.

This is my recovery.

This is all a part of my recovery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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