Man! It's been a month since my last post. I have lost all ability to manage my time. It's been a busy month, however, so I hope you'll cut me a little slack. Here is the first in a series of updates. This entry was started about three weeks ago.
On July 20 I had my last, regular chemo infusion. I will continue to receive an infusion of a single "maintenance" drug, they call it, that has no obvious side effects (other than heart failure), every three weeks for another 8 months or so. So we are now on official hair re-growth watch. It will be several weeks before I start to see or feel any improvements. I am looking forward to touching things without feeling an irritating and chafing tingle that sends bristly shivers up my spine. I look forward to losing the yellow color and fungal appearance of my fingers and toes. I imagine having a reduced appetite and increased metabolism off steroids. Oh...and I'm hoping for a cure for my cancer.
My doctors like to tell me that I'm making BC treatment look easy. This comment makes me glow with pride, as if I had done something really remarkable and accomplished. It also makes me feel that every complaint I might feel like expressing would contribute to a lower grade on my cancer report card so I stifle them. This stoicism has its pros and cons. On the pro side, my doctors, my family and my friends tell each other in my hearing how well I am doing, which, of course, makes me feel very well. On the con side, my kids don't clean the dishes.
The logic here is that if I were to act sicker, maybe my kids would do more chores around the house, or treat me with sympathy and kindness.
As it is, my son makes fun of me just like he always has, especially when I try to grab a piece of him for a snuggle. He says things like, "stay away from me you freak," "you look like a mental patient," "you're ugly and you disgust me." Now I know that some of you are appalled by such rudeness and disrespect, but for some reason I find this outrageous rudeness funny. So I laugh and that encourages him to further abuse. But now and then I think I should take some offense as an overweight, bald and bosomless woman about being called ugly and disgusting. I should defend bald, bosomless women the world over against prejudicial outbursts such as these.
My daughter ignores me as usual and continues to have no inhibition about letting me know how idiotic and useless I am as a parent and adviser.
Sometimes I worry that I should be reprimanding my children for their disrespect, and that I should be teaching them humility and empathy. But then I think there is very little I can do anymore to shape the behavior and values of my 19 and 20 year old children, so I sigh, and then one or the other will ask with alarm, "what's wrong? "do you feel okay?" Best to be jocular and make it look easy.
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