Am I supposed to have some sort of event? Like a baptism type thing? It arrived today, the plain black one (I wish it was the floral jammie, but perhaps it's good to start slow). Unceremoniously packaged in a plain looking box. I didn't even know what it was, due to my sometimes late night online shopping with a glass of wine or Schmailey's. I was hoping I had bought the Louis Vuitton bag, but alas, I had more sense than that.
Damn.
It's interesting to have a medical garment. Just typing it makes me feel all sorts of icky. But, there it is. I haven't tried it on. It's not like getting a sexy new dress that you had to special order, or say, a Louis Vuitton bag that you have to carry around the house to see just how you look holding a monogrammed satchel. It's a black sleeve and gauntlet. To keep your arm and hand compressed. So you don't puff up like a marshmallow if your lymph decides to get all stupid.
Yup. Sexy as heck.
On another note, I had a rehearsal tonight with brand spanking new folks. To me, they were not newborns. New to me. Clarification is the key! Damn, it was nice. I like walking into situations where folks don't know I'm a Cancer Patient (lots of reverb, maniacal laughter and hand rubbing). I'm just a chick musician, I'm having fun. I have good ears. I have a stupid sense of humor that they seemed to handle well. I liked being a person, not cancer cells.
Back at the ranch... I wonder if anyone has studied alcoholism that develops after cancer. I'm not saying I am one - in fact, I have a super low tolerance. But damn, I take my super low tolerance nightly at this point. My brain races, and I need to step on the brakes at some point. Tonight, I almost reached for the white wine, but ended up pouring a Schmailey's (readers of previous posts may recall that my pet name for Carolan's is a play on the brand name Bailey's.) I wanted a drink and dessert. The half cup of homemade yogurt with blackberries followed by an orange clearly did not sate my need for sweets. That's when the Schmailey's comes in handy. It's dessert and drunkenness in one! How convenient!
I guess it could be worse. I could be shooting up. (The thought of voluntarily putting a needle in my body makes me want to vomit massive amounts of anything and everything that is in my body at the moment - and that is some quality Schmailey's in there right now!) No, I think my recreational calmer-downer is quite fine. I guess if I work my way up to a full glass of wine in an evening, I should worry. ;)
Big day tomorrow. Well, the usual - radiation fun! Who needs healthy skin??? And who doesn't want to be radioactive? But after that, my acupuncturist and I have a date! I need the freaking needles in my arm, my legs, my face. Calm me down - puncture the anxiety and the worry and the eating as a coping mechanism away. Though, she had an interesting take on my eating during stress.
My body needs it for some reason. Comfort? Sure. I guess it's better than sucking my thumb or walking around trying to rock myself like a baby. I could get a pacifier. I could find a small kitten to carry around all day. I could drag a teddy bear with me, or claim a "blankie" to carry like Linus. Seems like a lot of work. Easier to make some organic popcorn at home, freshly grind sea salt and pepper, savor the organic coconut oil that it was lovingly cooked in, freeing it's fluffy white goodness, with a few old maids left for crunchy fun at the bottom of the bowl. Oh, did I mention that it goes great with Schmailey's?
Back to tomorrow - I really would love to hit the gym. I don't think I've gone since radiation started. I'm in week 3. I'm a fat-ass. No, I'm not really, but I feel like one.
This morning, I felt drunk after radiation. I mean, I was staggering while walking. This happened on the first day as well, but it was less fun. Maybe it was the 3 day weekend that made my body "restart"? Anyway, it was fascinating, feeling like that before 9am. I would not be a good alcoholic, after all. It was interesting, and sort of fun, but I certainly would have felt gross if it were drink-induced rather than radiation-induced. Wait, why is it ok to feel like crap via radiation?
I guess because it's supposed to cure me. Or something.
Let me leave you with the following article. Sounds way more humane than all the shit I've been dealt! Bring on the rice!!! Maybe I can concoct a new crunchy snack food using rice... I mean, it couldn't hurt... sprinkled with broccoli sprouts (which are sprouting swimmingly, thank you!)
ps. 16 treatments left!
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