Weekend Thoughts III

The generally anemic* quality of my posts for the past week bears some explanation and apology, for those who still read me.

You see, each an' every single cycle of chemotherapy weakens your body a little bit more than the last. Because, although the weeks off let the system recuperate a bit, it's not enough to regain 100% functionality. So every cycle leaves me a bit more winded, because I wasn't as good to start.

It's also a bit geometric: the weaker I start, the more is taken out of me. I grew proportionally weaker during Cycle 3 than Cycle 2, etc.

Which is all to say, I felt really goddamn worn-out as of roughly Wednesday morning, and I'm still not completely back in the world of humanity. I'm not in the world of humanity at all, actually, just a reasonable facsimile thereof. I have pervasive acid reflux, a general inability to focus, and a complete unwillingness to do anything physically stressful, like stand, talk on the phone, or drink water.

The good news, is that it's effectively over. I have to go to the hospital 5 more times for this whole cancer-type deal (I am going to assume that surgery will prove unnecessary, because dammit!...well, just dammit). Only two of those are chemo. And while Wednesdays have consistenly sucked, they haven't been long-term sucky, just one-off shots of sucky.

At one point, I had hoped that this board would serve as an inspiring tale of how cancer doesn't have to ruin your life. And it has, insofar as it's mostly a tale of how thoroughly chemotherapy ruins your life. Actually, I felt just fine with cancer for almost a full year. It's just the seven weeks of treatment that have driven me into suicidal despair.

Kidding! I was never suicidal. And it hasn't been that big a deal; 4 days out of every 21 have been almost intolerable, and then I get better. Remember kids, check yourself for suspicious lumps every month. And tell your doctor if you find any. Because I want every last goddamn one of you to suffer the way I have.

Kidding again! I wish cancer on no-one! Because it's a bad thing. Even though I have inspiringly sailed through it in a measly seven weeks.

Seriously, I cannot believe that people manage to do this for months at a time. I have really indescribable respect for those who did. I'm just coasting through on bile and sarcasm, and I am truly in awe of those who had to actually suffer for huge portions of their lives.

*A weak pun.