Doc Mick’s meds have made me sick and irritable. He says this is normal, and as long as I don’t see blood in my stool or vomit, I’m ok.
I feel pretty bad, emotionally, too. Last night I was mean and nasty to my husband, and today he’s asking me where I want to go out to eat. It started over him washing laundry Tuesday afternoon. Having a husband who does laundry is like having unlimited money. It’s great for people who don’t have it, but then you realise how lonely or annoyed it can make you. My husband washing laundry throws off my entire system. We live out of antique Bonnet Collection dressers and shelves, so we can’t have too many clean clothes at once. I needed clean socks. He washed underwear. Every dirty pair in the house. After I had just washed us enough to last through the month. He always does things like this. Washes the sheets when there are too many on the shelves, washes clothes when there’s no place to put the clean clothes. I have underwear and socks mixed in with jeans and tees. It just drives me nutso. I must be obsessive compulsive.
It’s my fault. I encouraged this. I told him he did a great job organising the closet with the plastic totes for my shoes and the bags for our smaller dirty items so they wouldn’t fall from the basket and get lost behind my trunk. Oh, and I always praise him when I come home to find the mountain of dirty laundry we pile up at the foot of the bed has been sorted and put in the right baskets and bags in the closet. Those little things I really don’t mind, but please don’t wash the clothes! Aside from the fact that we rarely have a place to put clean clothes, when he washes them, he doesn’t use fabric softner, nor does he dry them properly. Sometimes the socks come unwound and the strings wrap around other parts of the laundry, where the middles don’t dry because they’re wadded together. Then he dries everything on extremely high heat so it shrinks. All those brand new pairs of underwear, shrunk three sizes smaller.
Looking back, that was hardly anything to get upset about. It was certainly no reason for me to tell him what I did. I feel bad about it, especially since we’re getting ready to go out and eat tonight, and he’s taking me out tonight and tomorrow night to kind of give me a mini-vacation before I have to undergo those treatments. I doubt I’ll want to do much of anything that I don’t have to after I start them. To make me feel worse, he’s making me DVDs of old Monkees episodes, and he has all of them downloaded, because he remembered I loved that show when it was coming on as re-runs in 1986.
In other words, I don’t deserve what I have. I know this more than anyone else can tell me.
Last, I feel badly because I had to work a double shift. Lance called in until next week. I was the only on there when he called, so I volunteered to take the shift, then split his other days up between Michelle and Judson.
I got sick earlier.
Vomiting cold bile sick. Cold. Bitter. Yellow bile. Ick. It scared me. The simple reason that it was cold scared me. There was a lot of it. I nearly filled a liter basin with vomit. It was weird because it waited until I brushed my teeth for the night before I got sick. I called Doc Mick once the episode was over. He told me not to worry, just relax, watch a movie, read, play a video game… alright, that last one might not be a good idea because I tend to get mad at video games. I thanked the doctor, and hung up looking for something to keep my mind occupied. Mostly I wanted someone to tell me that I was going to be fine. I searched through some of my old CDs and then I realised I couldn’t play any music because my drive is being used to burn movies. Boo! *throws tomatoes at computer* Actually, I could have dug out the old CD player and tried to play them on that, but I wasn’t in the mood.
In the end, I just watched the counter tick down on Toast, for my DVD burning, and downloaded some more software and fonts. Hey, I can decorate while I try to over come the sickness. It’s worth a shot!
I got word back from my hosts that nothing has changed and my site is fine. That being said, I got nearly 600 hits today, so someone is getting through enough for the counter to pick them up. Still, I changed my URL on Entrecard to add the www. Hopefully, that will fix things. If not, well, there are better ways to get $100 people. Morally un-corrupt ways. Yeah, I know what’s going on.
I’m a little more okay with my diagnosis today. I don’t feel trapped or upset about it. I feel that it’s going to be okay. Doc Mick called me today to make sure I was okay and not too upset. He told me I will get better. I feel better about this too. A small part of me feels stronger, happier, more alive than before. I thanked Doc Mick for calling me. Very few doctors do that anymore. am starting treatment on Monday. It’s an eight-month/session treatment that will last about four hours per day, one day per week. Doc Mick made it a point to tell me we’re going to get through this, and that I won’t have to quit my job and he’ll make the treatment as painless and comfortable as possible. I’ve never heard of anyone making cancer comfortable, but there’s always a first time.
Thank you for the well wishes. The reality of this is starting to sink in and it’s not so bad today. I have been through this before, and I know I can get through it again!
I spaced on the templates, what with bothering my hosts and all today. I might work on them once the movies I’m downloading are done, burned and deleted. I may not. If anyone wants a specific or custom template, feel free to email me and make a request!
Starting on Monday, I will being the first of eight treatments for cancer. I am no longer in remission. Doc Mick told me this morning during my appointment. He said he did all of the tests several times over to be sure, and he’s over ninety percent sure. The course of treatment is going to be eight months worth of chemotherapy. One dose per month. This time around, I am going to refuse the higher doses. Last time I had a dose, it was so high, or the counter active drugs were so high, my heart stopped.
I don’t know what I am going to do about my job. I was able to go to work today, and do the drone work without missing a beat, but what about after I start treatment. What then? Will I be able to still work? I did not tell Keith that I was sick, but I asked about the insurance. He said it’s still pending. If I am not approved by Monday, I will be paying for my treatment myself. I checked the schedule and called Judson in to work for me on Monday because I was scheduled to work. He gladly agreed. One of the best part about my job is the people rarely question why you need them to work your hours.
My husband hasn’t worked for four days, but after getting the news that I am sick again, he decided to go into the studio. Could I drive him? Oh, and here’s some Arby’s food because I don’t want to cook tonight. Sadly, I was so hungry that I ate the stuff. Ick. Curly fries with no cheddar. I wish that I could do what my husband did and just take off for a few hours today. That’s impossible, though because I cannot run from my own body. I cannot run from what is eventually going to happen. The next eight months aren’t going to be fun, they are going to be hard. It is going to be even harder to continue to work and take care of the little ones, but I am up for the challenge! I want to fight for the last time! there will be no more battles after this one, so I have to make it count. I have to work hard to get well because I know I am needed in this life. I cannot quit yet. There is still so much I want to do and experience.
Because I knew I wouldn’t feel up to it in a few days, I decided to catch up the laundry today. I almost enjoy being alone. I almost enjoy not having to deal with anyone face to face. I know that won’t last, either, but I do enjoy it. I like relaxing with no where to be. No one who needs me. To walk before I have to run. Even if in a couple of hours the kids will be here and I will have to start preparing dinner, I am reflecting on where I go from here.
I am no longer in remission.
My vision is doing that flashing thing again. White flashes that look like sparks dancing across my eyes. I called my regular physician and told him what was going on. He told me to “try to quit eating for five or ten minutes and see if that stopped it”. Disgruntled, I hung up. Why in the world does he assume that I am some kind of a food-crazed maniac?? I’ve lost over fifty pounds in the span of two months. That’s not the actions of someone who eats constantly. I called both Doc Dan and Doc Mick, but neither of them were answering their phones, so I had to leave a voice mail. I wish I knew what was causing this. I’d stop (or do) anything to make it quit. I go back to work tomorrow, after having today off, and I need to be able to read the beakers and granulated cylinders. I can barely read the 12 point font on my computer screen with my vision acting up like this, and that I can enlarge or change. How am I going to read the equipment at work? Worse, what if I screw up and put arsenic in one of the gel runs? Keith is colourblind, so we keep the chemicals in order according to atomic weight, and numbered. Arsenic and tritium have similar numbers on their packaging. It would be very easy for me to make that mistake at work.
I thought about calling in. I wanted to call in. I wanted to tell my boss that I am pending blood test results and that I cannot come back until I get this problem fixed, but that would be a sign of weakness. I can’t do that. I can’t be weak. I will be following Judson tomorrow, and I have to evaluate his performance (he doesn’t know this) to see if he’s worthy of staying as a permanent employee. I haven’t followed Michelle yet, but I will on Friday. I think Keith is going to fire her anyway because she doesn’t have a PhD at all, nor does she even have a Bachelor’s or Associate’s. Last I knew, you had to have a PhD to work with the chemicals we work with. Not that I don’t think she can’t be put somewhere else, like working the desk. I think she’s pregnant. I frequently see her driving her dad’s Lumina around town, and the other day I saw her at a drug store, three towns over from where she lives, buying a pregnancy testing kit. So she needs a job. But we have to be safe, too.
I’m off to take some meds and try to sleep off this vision disturbance. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t have any irritation that I can physically feel. But it’s annoying. I hate seeing those wavy lines across my vision, those rippling, pooling lines, that makes everything seem as though I am viewing the world from under water. Or through a watery window. I hope it’s nothing, and just a small phase or a miscalculation of my medicines.
The flashes have not stopped. This is going on two hours now. I tried everything I could, from taking my nighttime meds, to relaxing in a hot bath with my lemon and rose scented moisturizing bubble bath. I know this is a sign of a retina detachment, but I have not had any head trauma.
I called Doc Mick and left a message on his voicemail. Hopefully, he’ll get back to me tonight, if not tomorrow.
The flashes of light kept me from enjoying the stars tonight. Every time I would focus on a star, the flashes would smudge it out. All I could see were blurs of light, and the stars in my peripheral vision. It just wasn’t the same. :-*(
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