I wrote this two days after Chemo #3.  This is the post that stopped my blogging.  Well, at least for a couple months.  After I wrote it, I was too tired to grammar and punctuation edit it and post it.  So, it sat for a few days.  Then I became worried it was way too negative, so I wanted to edit it to be more positive or funnier or at least mildly amusing. Then more time passed and it somehow felt inauthentic to edit it, and wrong to “just skip it” and write another post.  So, I guess, I stopped.   I got “too busy”. Well, I actually was pretty busy.  Anyway, I wanted to write a new post about finishing chemo (huzzah!) but I needed to deal with this first. I did feel horrible. I did (and still do in many ways) feel a lack of support. I don’t need to pretend = lie about that. So here it is, a time-capsule from September 19th, 2015:

Exhausted. Depressed. Totally and completely ineffectual. That is what sums up today.

In the last 2 weeks things really ramped up at work and I have failed miserably at juggling priorities.

I feel bad that I didn't get a chance to do a post-2nd-chemo blog in order to say, “hey, it wasn't some walk in the park, but chemo #2 was certainly better than chemo #1” and “hey, wasn't it totally wickedsick how I had purple mohawk for like a week?” 

However, this time has passed.  Now I'm laying here, attempting not to drown in self self-pity. And even all the facts that I have, do not help this feeling of being completely worthless.  What facts? What facts, you ask?  Well white cell count were much better, seems the seven shots I had to inject myself with last time at $100 copay were worth it.  So, I get to do it again 34 more times… hoo. ray.  My red cells however, are low.  So, I am slightly anemic, not dangerous yet, but this explains the exhaustion. Protein levels are also low, despite my attempts to shove 75 gram of it in my face every day. But kidney function and liver function are normal and no signs of infection. Oh yes, and the most important part—shrinkage, major shrinkage.  We're talking like about 30-40%.  In fact, the only really negative part of my last doctor’s appointment was my being harshly admonished for working too much and not taking enough time to rest.

So here I am.  Trying to rest.  And just feeling totally useless, because there are other facts too.  The fact that I don't look like myself.  I don't feel like myself.  I can't manage walk down the stairs to go eat a cup of goddamn yogurt, which doesn't taste like anything anyway, without getting completely winded, feeling dizzy, my heart pounding.  And all the time, I'm trying really, really hard to have a great attitude, not to be a Debbie Downer or a complete asshole, but sometimes I just want to yell at people. “I have fucking cancer could you be a little bit more helpful!?”

The fact that this situation is only temporary, should be comforting, but right now, it really isn’t.