yep, almost
I have no more nostril hair. It’s really weird. The insides of my nostrils get all gummy and stick together. If I pinch my nose I look like Michael Jackson for a sec while the nostril sides peel off of each other slowly. No one talks about this on the cancer sites. There are many articles about mourning the loss of your hair and picking the right kind of wig, but no one mentions this.
The last one is coming up. Thursday is the last chemo. I’ve been living in a weird kind of uncomfortable wordless limbo the last week or so. Not writing much and watching my dreams get wilder and vivider and more inexplicable and violent. And giving in to the tiredness. And letting the heat waves roll through me, like swimming through hot spots in a lake. And as the light becomes apparent, as I start to see an end to all this, I’m getting angrier. Angrier at the uncertainty, at my own mind that relentlessly tells me I’m not doing enough, at having no steering wheel whatsoever when it comes to controlling the future of this disease. At not knowing what caused it and therefore what could cause it again: Is it all about just eating more broccoli, not getting too stressed and visualizing pink light? Is it about avoiding chemicals that are unavoidable? Or is worrying about EMFs and PVCs and PCBs worse than the chemicals themselves?
Being simultaneously tired and angry is rough. So is being menopausal at 31. And February.
Anyway.
Things I’m grateful for (this is what I must do when all I want to do is rip my hair out and find I can’t even do that):
Clear PET scans
Pom and Pellegrino
Bed
Choosing Colors by Kevin McCloud
Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld
Short emails
My new blackout shades
The sideboard
G Girls
Percy the Bear
Health insurance
T and L and C and K and A and J and M and more
The days it smells like spring
