post-post-post chemo update
I don’t know if anybody’s reading anymore. Are you? Well, regardless. Hi. It’s July 4, 2005. It’s insanely sunny out but I haven’t been outside yet. I’m inside, cleaning, trying to feel clear-conscienced enough to go outside, to be deserving of the sunshine. Sigh.
Health updates:
– the hot flashes have simmered so greatly they’re more like hot plateaus – feelings of warmth that come and visit without spiking, without making me sweat or cry or shake.
– I ovulated. Waiting for the red evidence, but I’m pretty sure.
– Hair is back. I look like I did this on purpose now. People don’t look at me like I’m dying or high-five me for my bold look. They just think I have short hair. Which is good. I think I may keep it this way once I see how it looks a little longer. It’s soft and cowlicky, puppyish.
– Waiting on the latest CAT scan. I’m nervous even though the dude giving it gave me an unofficial “looks good” and the beatchty nurse told me it looks “okay.” I’ll know next Thursday for real. I’m worrying because of excessive hiccups (had those before), back pain (like before), and some nausea. But we’ll see.
– Not eating so well. I have no idea how to work full time and take care of my eating – especially with a teeny kitchen with no counter. Need to figure out a way.
– I’ve been lifting weights, slow. It’s called super-slow or slow training and the idea is you build more muscle, better faster, safer when you lift slow. And I like my trainers. A husband and wife team, they work out of a lofty space in Chelsea that used to be an upholsterer’s factory – you can see the upholstery tacks embedded, gold, into the gray cement floors. It’s cool. And the woman in the team also has NHL, coincidentally. And he’s a painter. I’m not cut or anything yet, but doors aren’t feeling quite as heavy.
– I’m way behind in journaling, emailing, creating, calling people, doing laundry.
– Work is crazed. Insurance is scary. Our latest issue just came out, Julie Delpy is on the cover and I’ve got an essay about celibacy in it. And lots of other little stories including a pretty funny (if I do say so myself) interview with Moby and his friend Eddie Stern, a yoga teacher. So buy one, please.
– My joints hurt less. I was waddling for a while there.
– I have more energy. Enough to walk to work and walk home and be at work all day without needing to escape and sleep.
– Someone asked me if I wake up every morning and think about this thing. And the answer was an easy no. I’m reminded sometimes, jarringly, how this is about survival, longevity. But mostly my mind kvetches about the normal, non-life-threatening things: dishes, writing, weather.
– A massage therapist recently said the spot where I had my biopsy, right near my left collarbone feels “empty.” I’m trying to reimagine it full, even though they did take out a whole lotta node.
– I’m sad sometimes. But I was always sad sometimes. Now my sadness feels a little more profound, or justified, something to point to other than the depression I’ve felt most of my life. But I am a little sadder, maybe, than I was before. A little more serious, a little more tuned into the death channel. I think people have noticed maybe, and wonder. I was sort of hoping this would leave me actually happier, more ready to embrace the moment. But right now at least I feel so cautious – especially about things like health insurance and food and chemicals getting near me. It’s a lot easier to trust the universe when you don’t have cancer and live in a society where health care is for rich people. I’m finding myself looking to make pre-emptive decisions that aren’t necessarily in the best interest of my creative dreams. But rather in the best interest of making sure I have health care. And I’m not sure this is a good thing. Maybe there’s a way to trust without sacrificing the practicals. Maybe this is when trust comes in more handy than ever. I know, “Trust in Allah but tie up your camel.” I just want to make sure I tie him up without shackling him.
– Kettering switched from pastey banana CAT scan shakes to raspeberry kool-adey stuff. They said they switched back by popular demand. It was better. Not hard to move up when you’re drinking fake banana paste, but still.
Other stuff:
– Today is the two-year anniversary of my relationship with T. He’s at work but brought me tiny daisies this morning and may be leaving work early so we can play. Meantime, I’ll be checking out Laura Cantrell and Yo La Tengo in Battery Park.
– I’ve been reading the Gossip Girl series series and it’s wicked fun. I read cheesy passages to T while he read to me from Plutarch. Bitchy rich girls from the upper east side, corrupt Greek rulers––potato, potahto.
– I’m getting a table and chairs from Room and Board, which rock. Wanna see:
Chairs
Table
And this cool-ass shower curtain
– That’s it for now. Have a lovely, firework-strewn, independence-reminding day. Xoxo, V.
