Good news friends, I didn't have to go to chemo today!
Oh wait....this is me we're talking about. Hmmmm There has to be a catch.
The summer started out promising, looking like I was going to be able to enjoy a few months of cancer free fun. But of course nastiness reared its head once again and the cancer slithered out from behind whatever rock it called home. It was a rough couple of weeks there. I was pretty angry. I was scared. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it through another round of chemo. But I've been through this before. I retreated for a bit, but came out the other end. As always I settled on the "it could be worse" approach and steeled myself for another round of sickening medicine. I was ok with it, as much as anyone could be. But then, oh yes then, right then, there were the stones. The pain that I'm having in my abdomen, blinding body doubling pain which leads to projectile vomiting, is being induced by gallstones. This is an issue that has to be resolved before I can start chemo.
"Oh Billy, that's not too bad" you say? "They can do that with a scope and a small incision" you think? Well, first off let's just say that ENOUGH IS ENOUGH already. Cancer, infections, adhesions, more cancer, more infections and now gallstones????
To top it off, my surgeon is not sure that he can remove my gallbladder with a laparoscope. Seems that the abundance of surgeries I've already have may have left far too much scar tissue right in the path that he would normally use. Chances are pretty good that I'll be back on the operating table by the end of the week, flayed open once again.
I'm not beaten yet, not much. But I have to ask; How much longer to I have to be upbeat? Why do I have to "look on the bright side"? Why is it necessary to "keep my chin up", "fight the good fight", "don't give up"?
Stay tuned. I'm sure there's more good news to come. (yes, that was dripping with sarcasm)
Monday, July 30, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Ten ways to Sunday
Friday the 13th. Sure, it sounds ominous, but does it have to be? Was I destined for bad news last week when I visited my oncologist to get the results from my latest cat scan? Would this dark day of dark days hold fast its reputation? You bet your sweet patootie it would!!! I've got cancer. Still. "Several" lymph nodes, is how they put it. So it's back to chemo for me, starting on July 30th.
This next section is devoid of insight, poetry, journalistic integrity, or any redeeming social value what so ever. If you are of slight mind and delicate sensibilities, and are easily offended by words, go no further. Then again, if you are of slight mind and delicate sensibilities, and are easily offended by words, you're not reading this, because you and I probably wouldn't get along anyway.
This goddamnmotherfuckercocksuckerassreamingshiteatingsonofamotherlesswhore disease just won't seem to go away!!! I'm so fucking pissed! How much more of this shit am I expected to deal with?!?! I've lost out on half of my 30's, and I'll be goddamn lucky to make it anywhere into my 40's. Sure, I'm alive, but this is living? Having to shove gallons of poison into my veins every few months? Having to spend my summers puking up every last bit of chum? Wasting away until I look like a fuckin heroin addicted anorexic? Having to curl up in a mental haze while having some vague sense of the reality of the world around me? What the fuck did I ever do to you? You'd think I'd spent my life molesting puppies and painting apocryphal scenes with the entrails of human sacrifices. This totally sucks! SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!
Whew! Ok, got that out.
I'm not about to tell you there was a "good" part of the news I got, because in reality there is none. Sure, it could have been worse, I could be writing my own eulogy, but the fact is that when you are told you still have cancer, after 3 years, and that you have to go back to the worst hell on earth that you have ever experienced, none of it is actually good. I won't refer to it as "good" news but for those of you who need to find the bright side, I offer you a few "facts": The cancer hasn't spread to organs, it looks like it's in the lymph nodes; the last time I took this particular chemo drug, it did a very good job on the tumors I had at the time; this most likely isn't new cancer, it's just cells that have avoided all the previous attempts at banishing them from my body.
I was having fun pretending I was well. The summer had started very well. There was trips down the Shore, a wedding, a visit from Dave, a new apartment, a new position at work. But now it stops. The brakes have been hit hard and I've got two weeks to skid into the abyss. I don't know how bad the chemo will be, but I'd put my money on "horrible". I'm sure by now you know the drill. When I'm too sick to care for myself, and you all know how much I LOVE that, I'll be staying at Dad's. I will, however, be doing everything in my power to spend as much time as possible in my own place.
Oh, yeah...forgot to mention, I'm also having some sort of "red hot iron jabbed into my stomach" pains that so far, doesn't seem to be directly related to my current infestation of carcinoma. It got so bad that I had to hit the ER on Saturday and get dosed up with dilaudin just so I could stop crying. I have to go see some other docs to figure out what the hell that is before I can start the chemo. Oh joy of joys!
That's it for now. I'm going to Kentucky tomorrow for a couple of days for work. I hope I can make it through that. Then it's back home on Thursday and I'll try and figure out where my head is at then. Should I party my last couple of weekends before chemo? That is, of course, if my body will actually let me. Or will I just retreat into myself, watch a lot of movies, play a lot of X-Box, and sulk quietly until they come to take me away? Yeah, I know what you want, but you know that sometimes I just have to be left alone. I'll figure it out later.
This next section is devoid of insight, poetry, journalistic integrity, or any redeeming social value what so ever. If you are of slight mind and delicate sensibilities, and are easily offended by words, go no further. Then again, if you are of slight mind and delicate sensibilities, and are easily offended by words, you're not reading this, because you and I probably wouldn't get along anyway.
This goddamnmotherfuckercocksuckerassreamingshiteatingsonofamotherlesswhore disease just won't seem to go away!!! I'm so fucking pissed! How much more of this shit am I expected to deal with?!?! I've lost out on half of my 30's, and I'll be goddamn lucky to make it anywhere into my 40's. Sure, I'm alive, but this is living? Having to shove gallons of poison into my veins every few months? Having to spend my summers puking up every last bit of chum? Wasting away until I look like a fuckin heroin addicted anorexic? Having to curl up in a mental haze while having some vague sense of the reality of the world around me? What the fuck did I ever do to you? You'd think I'd spent my life molesting puppies and painting apocryphal scenes with the entrails of human sacrifices. This totally sucks! SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!
Whew! Ok, got that out.
I'm not about to tell you there was a "good" part of the news I got, because in reality there is none. Sure, it could have been worse, I could be writing my own eulogy, but the fact is that when you are told you still have cancer, after 3 years, and that you have to go back to the worst hell on earth that you have ever experienced, none of it is actually good. I won't refer to it as "good" news but for those of you who need to find the bright side, I offer you a few "facts": The cancer hasn't spread to organs, it looks like it's in the lymph nodes; the last time I took this particular chemo drug, it did a very good job on the tumors I had at the time; this most likely isn't new cancer, it's just cells that have avoided all the previous attempts at banishing them from my body.
I was having fun pretending I was well. The summer had started very well. There was trips down the Shore, a wedding, a visit from Dave, a new apartment, a new position at work. But now it stops. The brakes have been hit hard and I've got two weeks to skid into the abyss. I don't know how bad the chemo will be, but I'd put my money on "horrible". I'm sure by now you know the drill. When I'm too sick to care for myself, and you all know how much I LOVE that, I'll be staying at Dad's. I will, however, be doing everything in my power to spend as much time as possible in my own place.
Oh, yeah...forgot to mention, I'm also having some sort of "red hot iron jabbed into my stomach" pains that so far, doesn't seem to be directly related to my current infestation of carcinoma. It got so bad that I had to hit the ER on Saturday and get dosed up with dilaudin just so I could stop crying. I have to go see some other docs to figure out what the hell that is before I can start the chemo. Oh joy of joys!
That's it for now. I'm going to Kentucky tomorrow for a couple of days for work. I hope I can make it through that. Then it's back home on Thursday and I'll try and figure out where my head is at then. Should I party my last couple of weekends before chemo? That is, of course, if my body will actually let me. Or will I just retreat into myself, watch a lot of movies, play a lot of X-Box, and sulk quietly until they come to take me away? Yeah, I know what you want, but you know that sometimes I just have to be left alone. I'll figure it out later.
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