19 posts tagged “i am really really bitter”
6. "Bad Wisdom" by Suzanne Vega
Mother I'm cut at the root like a weed
Cause there's no one to hear my small story
Just like a woman who walks in the street
I will pay for my life with my body
ALP level has doubled in less than one year. look it up. god knows i have.
who are the sick twisted fucks that decided it was a good idea to send out emails that say "Happy Breast Cancer Awareness Month?" happy? are you fucking kidding me?
i'm realize that i'm in the minority here -- most people like the whole pink ribbon thing. i'm trying to keep my sarcastic comments to myself outside this blog because hey, if it works for you, i don't want to piss all over your parade.
but, really, this whole awareness month thing makes me insane. it is not "happy" and it is hardly "awareness" to profit off people's misery by selling paper towels and cell phone charms with pink ribbons printed on them.
it is also domestic violence awareness month, but i don't see many websites encouraging people to celebrate "Happy Domestic Violence Awareness Month."
let's use the word "happy" appropriately shall we? and please, please, please, do not send me animated breast cancer awareness month e-cards. please? i shall have to kill you.
chemo-free living has left me decidedly pissed off at the world.
i even got good news today! the path reports from my surgery came back clean. but of course, while i'm smiling at my oncologist saying "oh, yay!", i'm snarling inside my head "YEAH? so what? just give it time!" it's like i cannot see anything outside of a death sentence.
and finally, after all these years dating back to bob dole, i'm am soooo pissed off at the viagra commercials. i used to not understand what the big deal is and why so many of my fellow feminists complained about it. now i get it -- billions of dollars for men's sex lives and all i'm getting is recommendations for herbs. there ain't no magic pill for us girlies, and i hate that being thrust in my face on television every 15 minutes. (no pun intended)
also, in response to yesterday's post, i think the reason i was encouraging people to rub my head was to divert my instinct to strangle people who come up to me and say, "ohhhh you look SO healthy again!"
1. isn't one of the purported effects of having no appetite whatsoever called "losing weight"? how is it possible to eat nothing but slim fast for days on end and yet maintain the same large belly?
2. if your little toenail is as loose as a tooth and is only attached at the very base of the nail, is it better to just rip it out (off?) and get it over with or just wait until you stub your foot and it comes off by itself, with a great deal of pain? probably while you are hobbling through the airport?
3. when, if ever, will i feel sexy again?
that is all.
believe it or not, there are actually some chemotherapy side effects that i did NOT experience:
1. i never got mouth sores - though i was warned about them repeatedly.
2. i never got neuropathy -- UNTIL NOW
sigh.
it has been 10 days since the end of chemotherapy and now i can barely feel my fingertips or toes. this never was an issue until the last week. of course, i looked i up on the internet and discovered that it can sometimes be permanent. so much for resuming my piano playing. fuck this shit.
for some unknown reason, it just tonight hit me that it will take a looooong time for my hair to grow back. duh.
about 3 weeks after my mastectomy i had nearly 2 feet of hair cut off.
i donated the hair to "locks of love" (yes, okay, i did. i'm very bitter and stuff but please, i'm not that bitchy. i wasn't going to throw the hair in the trash!)
i hadn't yet started chemo yet, but i knew it was coming. i got an edgy little chin-length bob and then promptly bought some hot pink highlighting kit. aren't i so rad?
my hair started coming out FAST in mid-december. like, i would touch it and big clumps would fall out.
time to shave it.
fantastic sam's -- where a good time stops with a great --- hair cut! and where the woman working behind the counter was not familiar with the the word "chemotherapy."
"i need my head shaved."
"WHY? it is winter!"
"i'm a chemotherapy patient."
"what?"
"i'm a chemotherapy patient. i need my head shaved."
"what?"
"my hair is falling out. i need my head shaved. i'm a chemotherapy patient."
"what?"
"I HAVE CANCER!"
jeeeeeez!
(chemotherapy tip #1111: shave it BALD. like a baby's butt. leaving a little "buzz" lesbian alternative butch haircut will cause massive problems. namely, that if you wear a scarf, the little hairs will fall out and STAB you in the scalp.")
now that i'm almost done with chemotherapy (may 10 is the last infusion) - i can start bitching and moaning about the next phase of my treatment:
OOPHORECTOMY
it's all very exciting. i get to go under the knife again, of course, and this time i will surgically sterilized AND sent into permanent menopause!
i can look forward to lots more hot flashes -- plus, my bones will start disintegrating without estrogen.
oh, and i just read on wikipedia that this surgery will reduce or even "eliminate" my ability to orgasm.
today was my poisioning day. the waiting room was SO crowded. people talk loudly in the waiting room. one guy was talking about someone who had died, which is always comforting.
another woman was reading something aloud to her mother (a cancer patient) - obviously a column or passage from a book about staying positive (likely "chicken soup for the cancer patient's soul" or some such shit). allow me to paraphrase:
"so you can make a choice. you can choose to stay in bed and dwell on your illness and your loss of body parts. or...you can choose to "count your blessings" and be thankful for all that you have."
note that she was not reading this passage privately to her mother, who was sitting 3 inches away. oh no, she was reading it out loud so that everyone in the waiting room could hear.
what is this - fucking STORY TIME? leave me the hell alone. by the way, lady, i don't stay in bed because i enjoy dwelling. i stay in bed because i get friggin' dizzy after 5 minutes standing due to low hemoglobin. go blow sunshine up someone else's ass.
