Damn, girl.

 

My first Wordle in a long time today; solved in 5. 

I have been alternately pessimistic or upbeat about the CT scan tomorrow, but yesterday I decided to stop looking at the situation that way. Instead, I am trying to have no expectations because I just don’t know. School Marm says that is very zen or philosophical. In either case, there is nothing I can do about it. I will go and have my scan and then see what the doctor sees. It will be a long day no matter what.

I have a lot of time on my hands these days but I have so little energy. I started watching old baseball games on youtube some months ago, but I now have 4 games in rotation: the 1990 World Series featuring the Cincinnati Reds and the Oakland Athletics. Spoiler alert - the Reds win in 4. It may be weird, no, it is weird but it is soothing to me. I don’t have to listen or even watch them in order, what matters is the fact that they are being piped into my ears whenever I want, but mostly at night because it helps me sleep.

Sweetie’s brother thinks I am on the spectrum, which is something that I have sometimes considered. It would explain my dislike of certain noises such as the clattering of dishes or jazz. I like to count, even though it is not about math. It is the counting that I find comforting, and maybe that is why I like knitting. I often have felt and still feel that I don’t fit in. I used to say that I felt as though everyone else got a book of instructions at birth that explained how one should act, but that I never got mine. There was so much that I didn’t know but I marked it down to bad parenting. Why didn’t my parents tell me these things? I learned to shut up and act as if I knew whatever it was that I didn’t actually know. Emotionally crippled, I thought. I self-medicated with drugs and alcohol because I was depressed or anxious or because I wanted to feel differently. I find other people exhausting.

Then there are the phobias. Ceiling and floor fans on high, windows opened all the way, tailgating, and cabinet doors left open or ajar make me uncomfortably anxious.

But there are things I can do, such as teach classes on knitting or spinning or natural dyeing. Fuck. Is this making sense?

At my age, I have learned to pass as normal and shut up if I don’t. 

Fuck the Patriarchy.

 

Still no Wordle. My chemo-addled brain seems not to be capable. 

I am still quite tired from the last treatment and the whole process starts again next Wednesday. I’ll get another CT scan then, as well. Can’t say that I have good feelings about what the results will be, but maybe I will be surprised. I mean, my blood work looked good 2 weeks ago. This cancer is treatable, but not curable. I just hope I can gain a little strength and not have to keep getting chemo every 3 weeks until the chemo stops working. At least I am still not in any pain.

I knew a woman who had cancer similar to mine - metastatic. This was 15 or so years ago. She had had surgeries, a colostomy bag, and chemotherapy. It made her so sick. They would treat a tumor in one spot and get rid of it only to have another tumor arise somewhere else. Several trips were taken to the Mayo clinic. Anyway, after some years, she didn’t want to have any more treatment but her husband begged her to do it for him as he did not want to lose her. So she relented and had chemo again and again a different tumor appeared and this time she said “no” to any more attempts to ‘cure’ her. And she died, on her terms. She was a beautiful person and I think about her a lot. This is what I hope for. I want to die at home, not in a hospital, and as high as possible. 

With the help of Sweetie, we managed to get the plastic on the greenhouse. The previous 4 mil plastic disintegrated over the winter so this time it’s 6 mil. School Marm helped me get seeds started last Sunday and the zinnias and basil are already sprouting. It’s been terribly hot here (mid-90s) this week, along with much of the midwest. I will wait until Sunday or Monday to move more of the succulents out there; cooler temps should have arrived by then. 

If anyone is reading this dreck, could you please comment?

Just because

 

No Wordle. Maybe I can get back to it today.

Seven days out from my last chemo treatment, and this is the first day that I have felt almost normal, albeit still very weak. I have 10 days until I get to do it all over again. I do not hurt anywhere but my brain is thoroughly fucked. I accidentally paid School Marm’s credit card bill, not mine, and boy did that lay me low. I beat myself up for half a day because I hate that my brain is thoroughly fucked. I’m better now and all bill’s are paid. I just need to get that payment back from School Marm and get over myself. 

I wasn’t able to get my head shaved before my hair started coming out by the handfuls. I looked like the Crypt Keeper from Tales of the Crypt for a week and now it’s all gone except for a few stragglers. Interestingly, going through all this for a second time is easier; I know most of what to expect and so it freaks me out less.

Got to see a friend for the first time in a year-and-a-half; she moved state. Was so good to know she is doing well. Only wish I had more energy when she stopped by. 

Another acquaintance is in Scotland for the 4th time. I want to go and if I am able, I will go to England and Scotland this summer or early fall. Maybe Ireland, I don’t know. I’ve been an Anglophile for as long as I can remember and going there has been on my I’m-gonna-do-this list. So if not now, then when?

Had a short IM with my eldest brother. I told him I have metastatic cancer and we chatted about our health problems and death, etc. I told him I was at peace and he asked how I was able to be at peace. I said a few philosophical things and then said that not believing in an afterlife was helpful.

All I got was crickets after that. Maybe he just didn’t know how to respond to what used to be called a free thinker. I am trying to be generous.