No Time for Paranoia. AKA! One Less Thing to Worry About.

It’s funny how quickly things move sometimes. I fell asleep the other night, too exhausted to finish the small article I was writing on superstition and paranoia.

You see, I’d been having nightmares. Nightmares about my hair falling out. My teeth falling out. That kind of thing.

I’d started finding hair on my pillow in the morning. My head felt like it was itchying. I was getting paranoid.

I developed some rituals. 5 strokes of the hairbrush and straight into a pony tail for the rest of the day,. No touching the hair before I went to bed. No showers after the second chemo.

Basically, don’t look at the hair. Don’t think about the hair. Don’t touch the hair.

ESPECIALLY don’t touch the hair.

That’s what I was writring about. Maybe in more detail.

The night after neulasta was AWFUL. I had some oxy/acetominaphin to help get me through it though, so after an hour or so, it became tolerable and I was able to get some on/off sleep in so long as my head wasn’t involved. (And yes, that is another article because I feel it’s important. Neulasta is NO JOKE.)

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I love dressing up. I love spooky stuff. I wanted to participate. I planned on taking the max dose of oxy for the celebration. Dress up. Have fun. …A shower was needed.

I will summerize the shower: traumatic shower is traumatic.Image

That dream where you run your fingers through your hair and it comes out in clumps? And doesn’t stop? THAT.

I got so overwhelmed that through the tears, I started hanging it up on the towel rack. What else could I do? It wouldn’t stop!!

It was so much like my nightmares that I have expected my grit teeth to fall out of my head too! Maybe my arms would melt away and fall off next!!

Before I continue, I’ll tangent with a short story. I gave my hair an ultimatum. We could live together if it thinned. We could live together for a long time. I might get it cut a bit shorter, I might wear it up a lot more, but we’d deal. HOWEVER. If it clumped and came out? Done deal. It was getting shaved. I knew I couldn’t deal with it. Too much. Much too much.

So yeah, I got over the shock. I got over the horror. I got annoyed. Stupid fucking hair!!! It had ONE JOB, dammit!!! ONE!!

Cool thing though, the chemo left patterns. I saw two tulips and later on a heart. Maybe even the word “hi” if I looked hard enough. It was going to be okay. The hair stuff? If anything, it just showed that the chemo was doing it’s thing. Hunting shit down. Getting cancer dead.ImageImage

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I could dig it. I could deal with it. I don’t make idle threats, so at least I knew that I wouldn’t have to deal with the awful hair on my pillow much longer.

I’m blessed with wonderful friends. My housemate has worries of her own in the cancer department that make this lymphoma of mine look like a cupcake stand. She’s also lost her mother to cancer. There are all sorts of reasons that helping me with my hair issues probably made her uncomfortable or potentially brought back memories. Still, she’s the best make-you-bald barber I’ll ever had. Through the process we smiled and laughed…she made me forget everything I was worried about or afraid of.

I can’t even express my gratitude for her in general, let alone for her help with a difficult task. I really am SO blessed.

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So now I have a new haircut…and one less trouble. :)

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Not Exactly How I Planned to Start This

I’ve been planning to do a lot of things for a very long time.

I’ve been planning to create the epic fantasy series I’ve had in my head since I was small.

I’ve been planning to learn how to play the ukelele and the guitar and maybe a few extra instruments as time allowed.

I’ve been planning to brush up on my Japanese and then learn more. Maybe even try for some semblance of fluency.

I’ve been planning to read more.

Learn more.

Go out more with my friends.

Do more at work.

Report more often for the webzine I’m fortunate enough to write for.

Try making articles for other ‘zines too.

I’ve been planning to get my name out there…by any means possible.

…I’ve been planning a wordpress of my own for awhile, but I never seemed to find the ‘right time’.

Funny how it’s never the “right time“, isn’t it?

Not “ha-ha” funny, but enough to make a girl smirk at herself.

Well…it’s still not the right time. Not at all. It’s the wrong time.

Everything.

Is.

Wrong.

My headspace is all messed up. I keep vacillating between hero and victim and protagonist and auxiliary character and all the spaces in between. I’m the luckiest vagabond pauper queen victim warrior in all of how-many-ever worlds there might be. I’m at my best, worst, and most indifferent…and I’ve never cared more about leaving a mark.

I’m not writing this blog because I need something to do–
I have a job and a lot going on.

I’m not writing this blog because I finally realized that you can’t win if you don’t play–
I’m still terrified of failure and rejection and procrastinate and make excuses to deal with that.

I’m not writing this blog to build myself up or to tear myself down–
I’m too ambivalent about everything and anything to get beyond “pleased to exist”, honestly.

Most of all, I’m NOT writing this blog because I think I won’t get another chance–
Ambivalent, indifferent, or otherwise…I am still far too much of a narcissist to seriously imagine my own death before I’ve made something worthwhile to leave behind. Plus, I’m in no danger.

I’m writing this blog because I found out I have cancer…and that frightened me, consumed me, demotivated me. It spiritually, mentally, and physically messed with me to the point that the only reaction I see as reasonable now is to accept it as a challenge.

And Win.

I don’t take challenges often because I don’t take them lightly. I take them personally, spitefully, and with something to prove….and so I’m going to do my best to take everything that would hold me back or scare me off and craft it into something I can at least look at and say “Hey, I tried there. I didn’t give up or lose ground.”

Best case scenario? I make something like art or manage to help someone in a similar situation in some small way.

Trying is more than I’ve done in awhile. I’m rusty. I’m embarrassed it took some stupid clusters of “Cells Gone Wild” to get my attention. It’s not how I planned to start my wordpress…but here it is.

It may not be “the right time,” but it is the time.

Dr. Hodgkinstein? Chemo?

Bring It

…Bring it.