I’m so tired of people telling me things like “oh we take little comforts for granted!” Or “oh the things we take for granted!” when I tell them how happy I am to be out of he hospital. First of all, you don’t even have cancer so how would you know, but even more importantly—speak for yourself! Stop using “we”. Refer to yourself & yourself ONLY because we all know that’s who you’re talking about here. Don’t include me in your inability to appreciate “the little things” in life. I always have, it didn’t take cancer for me to see that. If it takes a life threatening illness for you to appreciate your home & hobbies, that’s your own personal shortcomings that you have no business projecting on to me.
Ever since I was discharged from the hospital back in 2013, not a single day would go by where I wouldn’t be grateful I still wasn’t in there. Not a single day, over the past 6 years. Yes, I thought about how happy and grateful I was to be alive and not in that hospital every single day for 6 years. The first three years were terrifying because remission is in many ways scarier than the hospital stay, but I was still super grateful to be at home during that time. (But remission is terrifying as fuck, as I'll talk about that another time--though there's tons of posts just about that if you scroll back far enough to 2013-2014, I'm sure.)
Also: it didn’t take getting cancer for me to be "grateful for the little things". I’ve always enjoyed my cozy apartment and little things like video game universes or Christmas decorations or tv series premieres or awards shows—-things that people would also ironically roll me eyes at me for. (Gee, that seems fair, huh?)
Anyway, all this to say—stop projecting your own personal shortcomings onto me, all right?
And by the way. Getting cancer isn't this crazy catharsis where you look at the world differently like it is in the movies. I mean, maybe it is for SOME people, but certainly not for me. Yeah, basic things felt a lot more awesome once I survived the first time--like just being able to return to work and ride public transportation and things like that---but it's not like I had some kind of crazy life-changing mind-blowing CATHARSIS. I guess that happens to some people, but I don't personally understand living your life so poorly or so half-assedly that it takes nearly dying to get your shit into gear. I'm really sorry if that sounds snobby, but WTF, man? Do you want me to put my true feelings out here or not? People always ask how I feel, so here it is---when death is always a lingering possibility, of course not all my thoughts are going to be happy or kind ones.
There are a couple of things I felt differently about after the first time I got cancer, and here they are:
1. Spend more time by myself, or for myself. Spending time with people who don't matter is never a good thing. I've talked about this to a lot of people and have even taught others to change their lifestyles to reflect this. Don't spend time with people out of pity. You're being dishonest and no one wins.
(There are teeny tiny little exceptions here & there, of course, but--tread carefully! There's very little out there that's more hurtful and pointless than a fake friendship.)
2. Eat. Eat eat eat. While I was hospitalized in 2013, I got stuck watching a lot of daytime TV cuz I didn't have Netflix back then. A lot of shows about diets and how to stay slim. I can't explain how that horrified me while I was getting chemo and COULDN'T eat. All I wanted was food. Ladies, a shake is NOT a meal. Love yourself. Eat a goddamn burger or pizza. Life's short. You'll regret all the time you spent starving yourself, I guarantee it.
That's it. It's late and I'm tired and I'm done ranting for now.
Monday 25 February 2019
Friday 22 February 2019
Breathless
I'm so out of breath all the time, ugh. Doing the smallest activities requires soooo much energy. I remember this from the last time I had cancer, but yeah. I'm so drained. Taking a shower requires a lot of rest afterward, for example. I can barely help Mike with the dishes, and I can't really prepare any meals.
Anyway! I'm just waiting for my sleeping pills to kick in as I gotta be up in a few hours to return to the hospital for my weekly blood test and meeting with my oncologist. I get my latest bone marrow test results, too.
I'm so grateful to be at home (and that is an understatement) but I've definitely been going a little stir-crazy (and that is also an understatement!). I really want to go out but I'm not allowed to go to crowded places. I could technically go for a walk but it's not the best weather for me to go outside, as it's been cold and icy and I could risk falling, and considering how I wiped I get just from taking things out of the fridge or putting things away, just walking down the street would be incredibly exhausting (especially if there's ice I need to manage). Speaking of which! Our superintendent is useless and didn't get rid of the ice leading from our door to the street, and it was this whoooole big thing and Mike had to be late from work to help me get from our door to the Uber....anyway, it's a long story I don't feel like typing out, but the long and short of it is, we both had to bug the super non-stop (after repeatedly reminding him of my leukemia and how if I fall on the ice I'm screwed due to my low blood counts) and finally he got someone to remove the ice. I guess he knows it's the tenants' right that there needs to be safe and secure paths to and from our own doors. Dayyyyyuuum.
Anyway, yeah. Wish I could go out. I'll be able to eventually, once my counts go up. But for now, it's just a lot of Netflix and video games and books. Which are all things I love anyway, but it's hard when a) I'm constantly anxious about the cancer, and b) I know I don't have the option of going out, and when I can't break those things up with going for walks or running errands or anything like that. And I really miss working! I'd love to go back to work soon. But I don't think that's going to happen for awhile. Which is scary, both in terms of boredom and lack of income. But I'll figure something out somehow.
I'm getting out of breath just typing this all out! hahaha. Damn red blood cells, you ain't playin'.
Anyway! I'm just waiting for my sleeping pills to kick in as I gotta be up in a few hours to return to the hospital for my weekly blood test and meeting with my oncologist. I get my latest bone marrow test results, too.
I'm so grateful to be at home (and that is an understatement) but I've definitely been going a little stir-crazy (and that is also an understatement!). I really want to go out but I'm not allowed to go to crowded places. I could technically go for a walk but it's not the best weather for me to go outside, as it's been cold and icy and I could risk falling, and considering how I wiped I get just from taking things out of the fridge or putting things away, just walking down the street would be incredibly exhausting (especially if there's ice I need to manage). Speaking of which! Our superintendent is useless and didn't get rid of the ice leading from our door to the street, and it was this whoooole big thing and Mike had to be late from work to help me get from our door to the Uber....anyway, it's a long story I don't feel like typing out, but the long and short of it is, we both had to bug the super non-stop (after repeatedly reminding him of my leukemia and how if I fall on the ice I'm screwed due to my low blood counts) and finally he got someone to remove the ice. I guess he knows it's the tenants' right that there needs to be safe and secure paths to and from our own doors. Dayyyyyuuum.
Anyway, yeah. Wish I could go out. I'll be able to eventually, once my counts go up. But for now, it's just a lot of Netflix and video games and books. Which are all things I love anyway, but it's hard when a) I'm constantly anxious about the cancer, and b) I know I don't have the option of going out, and when I can't break those things up with going for walks or running errands or anything like that. And I really miss working! I'd love to go back to work soon. But I don't think that's going to happen for awhile. Which is scary, both in terms of boredom and lack of income. But I'll figure something out somehow.
I'm getting out of breath just typing this all out! hahaha. Damn red blood cells, you ain't playin'.
Tuesday 19 February 2019
Only 1 of us will make it out of here alive
I'm not sure why I've waited nearly a month to write in here, but here I am. A lot has happened in the past few weeks!
For one, I've been discharged. I'm not in remission though. I had a bone marrow aspiration (not a biopsy) done while I was still in the hospital, annnnd incredibly long and complicated story short, another bone marrow test needed to be done to determine what's happening with my cells and to see how well (if at all) the chemo worked. But my doctor sent me home in the meantime, because, as she said, "I needed a break." Boy did I ever! I've been home nearly a week now...well, as of Wednesday it will be. On Friday I went in for a blood test and got another bone marrow test done; hopefully, that one will be able to give my doctors a better idea of what's going on with the cancer and all that, so we can figure out what steps to take next.
For now I'm an out-patient and will be going to see my original oncologist (at the same hospital) once a week, on Fridays, for check-ups and blood tests.
I have to go back tomorrow though to get the dressing on my PICC line changed. They couldn't do it for me on Friday (another long and complicated story...a rather frustrating one at that, too) so I have to make a special trip just for that tomorrow. Quite annoying. PICC lines are not fun to take care of, and that's an understatement. They certainly make showering quite a hassle.
Another thing that's happened recently is that one of my roommates died. Roomie number 3, to be exact. I feel a bit tacky referring to her as such, but I also don't want to name names on my blog either, because that feels even worse somehow. Anyway (speaking of showers), I was taking a shower last Monday (this was when I was still at the hospital) and that horrible Code Blue alarm went off, which is so loud you can hear it even when you're showering. I heard my floor/ward mentioned on the alarm and I was shocked! When I got out of the shower and walked back to my room, I passed by my old room, which is where the Code was happening. There must have been about 15-20 nurses and doctors spilling out of the room where my former roommate was. I had never seen anything like it.
I found out last night that she died that day, and I've been thinking about it a lot. My mind is all jumbled and weird. I have a lot of questions about all of this that will never get answered, but that's just how it is, huh. She was 36 and boy did she have a huge family and friends network that was constantly in her room. She's going to be missed by like a zillion people. And her kids! She had 2 kids. I've been learning a bit more about her by googling her but I can't find any social media. Anyway, 36 years old! She was so young. I keep thinking about both of us being in the same hospital and sharing the same bathroom and walking the same halls and having the same fears, but I went home and she died. Not that I'm out of the woods yet (by any means), but for now, that's how it is. It's just fucked-up and it's a lot to process. It doesn't make any sense and I know that expecting anything to make sense when it comes to cancer is kind of an entitled attitude to have, but I still think it's pretty fucked.
RIP.
For one, I've been discharged. I'm not in remission though. I had a bone marrow aspiration (not a biopsy) done while I was still in the hospital, annnnd incredibly long and complicated story short, another bone marrow test needed to be done to determine what's happening with my cells and to see how well (if at all) the chemo worked. But my doctor sent me home in the meantime, because, as she said, "I needed a break." Boy did I ever! I've been home nearly a week now...well, as of Wednesday it will be. On Friday I went in for a blood test and got another bone marrow test done; hopefully, that one will be able to give my doctors a better idea of what's going on with the cancer and all that, so we can figure out what steps to take next.
For now I'm an out-patient and will be going to see my original oncologist (at the same hospital) once a week, on Fridays, for check-ups and blood tests.
I have to go back tomorrow though to get the dressing on my PICC line changed. They couldn't do it for me on Friday (another long and complicated story...a rather frustrating one at that, too) so I have to make a special trip just for that tomorrow. Quite annoying. PICC lines are not fun to take care of, and that's an understatement. They certainly make showering quite a hassle.
Another thing that's happened recently is that one of my roommates died. Roomie number 3, to be exact. I feel a bit tacky referring to her as such, but I also don't want to name names on my blog either, because that feels even worse somehow. Anyway (speaking of showers), I was taking a shower last Monday (this was when I was still at the hospital) and that horrible Code Blue alarm went off, which is so loud you can hear it even when you're showering. I heard my floor/ward mentioned on the alarm and I was shocked! When I got out of the shower and walked back to my room, I passed by my old room, which is where the Code was happening. There must have been about 15-20 nurses and doctors spilling out of the room where my former roommate was. I had never seen anything like it.
I found out last night that she died that day, and I've been thinking about it a lot. My mind is all jumbled and weird. I have a lot of questions about all of this that will never get answered, but that's just how it is, huh. She was 36 and boy did she have a huge family and friends network that was constantly in her room. She's going to be missed by like a zillion people. And her kids! She had 2 kids. I've been learning a bit more about her by googling her but I can't find any social media. Anyway, 36 years old! She was so young. I keep thinking about both of us being in the same hospital and sharing the same bathroom and walking the same halls and having the same fears, but I went home and she died. Not that I'm out of the woods yet (by any means), but for now, that's how it is. It's just fucked-up and it's a lot to process. It doesn't make any sense and I know that expecting anything to make sense when it comes to cancer is kind of an entitled attitude to have, but I still think it's pretty fucked.
RIP.
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