Countdown to Chemo

Chemo Cycle #2.  8:30 am tomorrow.  Countdown:  11 hours…  I’ll most likely be awake for most of that…  

I shouldn’t be scared.  I shouldn’t even be nervous.  They’ll poke me in the arm and I’ll sit beside this hanging bag thingy for a while and then I’ll go home.  People with cancer have to do this everyday.  EVERYDAY.  It’s silly.  Just silly.  I shouldn’t be scared.  It doesn’t make any sense because all I really want is for the chemo to start working and wouldn’t you think that I would be running to get this second one done because then maybe it would speed up the process??

But, no.  No.  You know why?  Because, I’m scared.  I’m scared because I don’t want to start puking.  Yes, I said it.  I’m scared that the chemo will make me puke.  I hate puking.  I hate it.  I hate it. I hate it.  It’s what happens during and after almost every lupus headache and it’s never just once and even when there is surely nothing left it keeps happening until I am empty, empty, EMPTY and it takes EVERYTHING and I’m left on the floor with NOTHING LEFT.  And God, I don’t know if that can happen right now, because I’m running on empty already.  I’m on the floor already.  I’m okay and I’m holding on, but I am on the floor already, because the chemo isn’t working yet and I have to give it all I got to just BE here, to sound coherent, to fool other people into thinking that it is working so that they don’t have to worry about me, so that I don’t embarrass the people who love me, so that I don’t embarrass myself.  

So, I’m scared.  Fine.  It didn’t happen the last time, so there is still hope that it won’t happen again.  So I’ll hold onto that tonight.  I’ll hold onto hope.  And I’ll try to remember what I said to my 7 year old cousin this past weekend when she confessed to me that she was nervous about dancing in front of everyone at her birthday party:  “It’s okay, it’s actually good to be a little bit scared sometimes.  All you have to remember is to believe in yourself and it’ll all turn out okay.”  Yah.  I give great advice.  I should listen to myself more often.

Next post we’ll get into the thick of it, people:  The particulars of Lupus Cerebritis  and the mysteries of the brain.  The lab rat has been prepped and the trials are about to begin.  Prepare yourself.

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3 thoughts on “Countdown to Chemo

  1. Matt, I would like to know who this great man is… although it’s more fun to imagine that it’s you. Andrea, with you rooting for me and with the power of your CAPSLOCK exclamation, hell, how can I not get through this? You’re both lovely for entirely different reasons and because I think you are both really cool. Period.

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