Due to all of my complications, I haven't had double chemo in a while and I forgot what it's like. Because of the accompanying steroids I'm a babbling lunatic for 24 hours and then I hit the wall like an egg and slide down it into a slimy pile of goo.
My hyper brain turns into wet toast and I'm befuddled and sleepy and don't want to eat anything. All winter long I said if it was just warm, I'd be able to handle things better... that turned out to be a false assumption.
When I think about it... I've been immuno-suppressed for the better part of nine months and I haven't gotten sick. So basically, I rock. This cancer thing must be a fluke, I'm going to go with that as my new theory. Crazy outlying fluke and not gonna happen again. I asked my doctor when I could celebrate. I figured I should wait five years until the clock on the uber-danger-zone was winding down, but he said "no, you celebrate when you're done with chemo and radiation." I feel like I'd be tempting fate and I'm feeling too tired to even think about celebrating, but life is short, maybe you have to celebrate when you get any damned excuse. Did you catch that radiation part? I thought I was getting out of that, but that's appearing less likely. I'm meeting with a radiologist next week, but she's already convinced my doctor I should do it. I do not want to do radiation. Three more months of every day, nooooooooooooo.
I've always had foot-in-mouth disease and now I have it on steroids. I've gotten two friends seriously mad at me over the past couple of weeks and they both had a point, good points, valid points, completely correct points. I shouldn't have said what I said, either it really wasn't what I meant or I crossed a boundary, and in this instance it was a boundary I was well aware of, but in my babbling idiot, hyped up state I did it. I feel awful about it, really truly, and I've apologized profusely. I wish I could internalize that once you do all you can do to set something right, the ball is out of your court and you've got to move on. My apologies were profuse, profound and sincere... that's all I can do, so I shouldn't feel bad about it for weeks and weeks, but that's what I do. I'm terrible when people are mad at me, I'm too sensitive and I dwell on it and I also think they'll never talk to me again because that's how I was raised. Family friends came and went suddenly, my father only speaks to one of his four kids and my mother only two out of the three, that ain't normal.
At the same time, I hope folks can understand that I'm mentally impaired, I am seriously on drugs. There's a lot that's out of my control, not just the numb feet and manic foot twitching, but the babbling, the over the top babbling and the sheer exhaustion that makes me crazy. Some of the brain issues really are the worst, today I was really proud of myself because I figured out in my head that 3 frozen lemonades at $1.75 each, equalled $5.25.