October 30th will be my last chemo treatment and I can get my PICC out and start taking careless showers. I’m sitting in the dark in my apartment not feeling well and trying to pinpoint what is wrong, but I just can’t explain it. I just realized that I have been doing nothing but waiting to feel better, but I really couldn’t do anything other than that anyway.
I’ll have to wait until November 28th to get a final scan of my body to see if the poisons did their magiks. If they did not, I will have to get surgery. I’m not going to lie to you, the idea of getting opened up does not sound good to me; in fact, it scares the ever loving shit out of me. Some of those spots could be in my lungs.
The week haven’t been all bad. I had a bad ass time at Slabtown who put on a benefit for me and it was wonderful. I could never thank all the people who showed up, the musicians who performed and the people that worked that night enough for being there for me and making me feel like I’m loved and not a piece of cancer shit.
It was good to be out and be social. I had spent a lot of time alone these last few months and it is starting to do a number on my sanity, but there isn’t a lot more I can do when my white blood cell count and my energy is so low. A cold would destroy me. The next night I went to my friend John’s birthday party and saw a lot of special people I don’t get to see all that often, and it filled me with love.
I’m not sure when I’ll start to feel better. I am looking forward to getting out more and seeing people and being social. I’m looking forward to having energy again, being able to read, write and draw. I can’t wait to not pay so much attention to my body. I can’t wait to be out in the autumn rains.
Today’s rain is everything I love about Portland. I walked up to Safeway and got a few items, and while that walked wrecked me like I ran a marathon, I loved walking through the thick rain and walking under all the thick trees and seeing the streams of water flowing down driveways and through yards. I loved the smell of mud.
I’m loving the new Mark Lanegan album, Phantom Radio + No Bells on Sundays EP. Something so comforting and reassuring about Lanegan’s music.
Part of the let down about this whole cancer deal is the changes in my body. I’m swollen and thick, like a fat hog. It makes my self-esteem low and I hate looking at my fat face in the mirror. I’ve never cared about how I looked all that much before, but for some reason when I see myself, I’m repulsed. I’m still losing hair, my pants are all getting tight, my chin is reproducing and my skin is stretching. Plus, I’m one less testicle down.
I am the luckiest man in the world to have such a great girlfriend who has stood by me this whole time. It hasn’t been easy. All of the sudden she has this helpless man in her life: bad health, no job, home all the time and very depressed and sick. She has made this whole experience bearable and I a thank my lucky stars every day that she keeps putting up with me. I don’t know how I would have done all of this without her. She is a fucking saint. She has to put up with my strange swelling body, my very painful bowel movements, my complaints and my inablity to do a lot. I hope she knows how much I love her.
Now all I have to do is get better and get a job.
