How did almost three weeks come to pass since my last blog post?
I'll tell you--I'm a tired cookie. On my good weeks I'm trying to bill 35-40 hours at the firm and on my bad weeks, well, they're bad weeks. I'm really anemic and my white blood cell count has dipped enough where I've had to keep on with the Neulasta shots. The shots, after not really affecting me that badly during the A/C days, are really kicking my ass now. Doctor says that its likely the combination of the soreness that Taxol already causes and the fact that my body is finally needing the hard-core bone marrow kickstart that the Neulasta causes.
The shot was this morning, and I'm hoping that premedicating with Advil and yoga will head off some of the discomfort and the resulting lack of motivation to do anything other than lie around in bed watching the World Cup and the Tour. Thank god for the Tour--when I'm too tired to put on anything other than underpants and wife beaters, tuning out to Phil and Bobke is a little more dignified than MTV's "True Life: Facebook is Ruining My Relationship." (I came to the conclusion that it was Jersey, not Facebook, that was ruining the relationship.)
My eyebrows and eyelashes are currently in the throes of Custer's Last Stand. I'm awkwardly (and rather unsuccessfully) learning how to draw eyebrows and used the alien-like change in my face as an excuse to go drop $80 at Sephora this morning. Apparently you can mitigate looking like an albino bowling ball with the clever application of eyeliner and creme eyeshadow. We'll see how that goes.
I have only one chemo treatment left. One. This is a good thing for many, many reasons, not the least of which is that I am completely over this. By "this" I don't so much as mean the Franken-eye, the perpetual exhaustion and the scaring myself in the mirror in the middle of the night. What I am over is the waiting for the net chapter of my life to begin. I have a million things I want to do, need to do, and it's hard to be patient.
I had a small tempter tantrum about this a while back. I've got an ongoing mental list of things I want to accomplish in the near future. It includes some small things--like learning how to make biscuits from scratch and buying new towels for my bathroom--and not insignificant things like outlining a book, writing a business plan for something I'd like to try in 2-3 years and starting a small non-profit.
With all of the downtime I've had in the last few months, it logically (?) seemed to me that I should be using it to get some of these bigger things accomplished. Then cancer reality sets in and all I have the energy to do is lay in bed, watch bad TV and feel guilty about my utter lack of productivity.
The Mexican finally had enough of this last weekend. I can't remember, verbatim, the lecture I got, but the gist was this: You need plans and things to look forward too, and you need to follow through with these things when you are well, but not a single one of these things has to be done RIGHT NOW. You are making yourself (and me) crazy trying to be a super-hero.
As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. I have placed an enormous amount of pressure on myself to be a Cat 1 Cancer Patient. To be tough and inspiring. Putting on appearances is almost as exhausting as the treatment itself.
So here's to being lazy and vulnerable and skipping out on more productive activities in order to make, and subsequently eat, a bowl of whipped cream and watch Footloose on CMT.