Sunday, June 13, 2010

Wet Noodle

In the beginning, there was so much to talk to you about, all that was happening to me, all that they were doing to me and just absorbing the MAGNITUDE of this path.

It is quieter now.  The weeks of chemo and chemo-not going by, the waiting to see what will happen each day, waiting for the good days.  It was harder to live them, but easier to write about when most of what I had to tell you was tests and shots and drugs and side effects.

Tonight you are stuck with a me with not so much to say.  Just a couple things.

Day three after chemo.  Had another shot this morning. Spent most of the day quiet.  No nausea or anything today, just a body ache that left me as energy-less as I have ever felt.  Like when you've spent too long in the jacuzzi and you get out and you're all wobbly like an over-cooked egg noodle.

Beef stroganoff with buttered egg noodles was my favorite birthday dinner as a kid.  My mom didn't even need to ask.  She just knew.

When was the last time you had a good cup of coffee with a piece of doughnut dipped in?  It had been way too long for me.  I prefer an old-fashioned glazed and a cup of coffee with way too much cream.

I visited my hair today.  I still have it.  I wanted to donate it but you can't donate hair that has been color treated in any way.  It's in a plastic bag.  There is a lot of it.  It looks dead.

Any suggestions what I should do with it?  I thought about giving some to my finches to down up their nests. Give me some ideas, will u?  I think I read once that human hair is a good deterrent to keep deer out of your garden.  Any one have a problem with deer?

I was thinking, as I head into the abyss of the "week after chemo," could I find a way to measure differently and make the focus the good that still happens despite it?

Like Where's Waldo?

Sometimes that tricky little son-of-a-bitch was hard to find, but he was there.

You just have to get focused and look really really hard, next to the fire hydrant, under the tree, with a chemo port in your chest.

Help me.

1 comment:

Julie said...

Hi'ya Chicklet, I have this love/hate relationship going on with your blog. It upsets me to hear about the pain you are going through and the changes in your life you didn't want. But, I love learning about
the inner Deb. I feel closer to you. And I love how your words are making me a better person. I love those around me more, whine less and enjoy the flowers, birds and blue sky more. Thank you for being Deb. Love ya, Yulie

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