Okay, people. I’ve been a good sport. Stiff upper lip and all that jazz. But I have to say I am feeling plenty tuckered out and PO’d today. Now I know that “pissed” means drunk for you UK types and that is not the kind of pissed I am talking about. I mean the good ole American “angry” pissed.
It’s great to be through with chemotherapy and all, but it really does suck that I now have to be subjected to more poking, more prodding, more cancer treatment. I’m kind of feeling done. And it dawned on me today, the morning after the telltale soreness and tenderness that always plagues me for a few days following my immune booster shot set in, that this Friday I have my CT scan and maybe even get tattooed for radiation. I am starting to feel like a science experiment.
Now you know I’ll soldier on because that is the honey badger way (and if you still don’t know what the Crazy, Nasty-Ass Honey Badger is, you have to look it up on YouTube yourself at this point). But I don’t have to like it. Sometimes a girl needs to vent.
I had about five people (well-meaning of course and there is nothing wrong with what they asked) inquire if I had any “exciting summer plans” now that school is ending (yipe –tomorrow). Um, yeah. I get to go have my skin radiated five days a week for five weeks. Oh goody. And I have to get myself there and get myself back.
I reassure myself: it won’t take very long — I’ll be in and out every day. It’s in a nice area. Yadda yadda yadda. But it still isn’t what I want to be doing. I’d like to be under a parasol sipping a prosecco, oblivious to the trials and tribulations of being a cancer patient. That isn’t a club I wanted to join. No one wants to. Too bad it has so damn many members. Of course I’ll take “patient” over “victim” or “casualty” any day…
Fear not. I won’t wallow for long. Tomorrow I’ll be up killing it again. But man, some good old-fashioned normal would go down really easy right now.