Tag: pain

Down to 15

I think I am starting the countdown a bit too early. I shouldn’t really start counting like this until it is single digits. Two more weeks, and it is 75%.

My body is really feeling it these days. Very tired. My fingernails are mostly gone. I’m really achy. Headaches all the time. My feet are starting to hurt.

Starting to ride my bicycle again. I can make it two laps around the park (6.5 miles). Each time gets a little easier.

I can’t wait for this to be over.

A Letter to K

A letter to K, who was upset with me about my visit last November, but hadn’t said anything about it to me since.

jesus, k.

i’m sorry. i had no idea. i’m sorry.

i’m really caught off guard by this. stunned. totally reeling, from the content, from the tone. trying hard not try cry.

your friendship means so much to me, that it hurts both that i hurt you, and also that you didn’t tell me. these are small things that have built up into serious anger. I don’t even know what ‘startlogic’ is?

and also, i felt so grateful for your patience with me. which makes it all the more painful to realize you were angry at me for it. i was a lot more tired and sick than i thought i would be by the time i got to LA last November. each month provides new difficulties, and that was the month I spent rolling around on the ground, ripping my clothes off to try to cool off on the concrete. I got back, got a name for it (dysesthesia), and a drug for it, which then killed my libido entirely, and dulled the dysesthesia so that I can leave the house without being afraid of a seizure like episode.

i hate not being able to be completely independent. i hate the fact that my fingers have so many lesions on them that I can’t do my own dishes, and it hurts too much to put gloves on and take them off, that I have to save up dishes for a ‘gloving’. i hate that i have no appetite, which makes me crash, which makes me cry. i hate that i have lost my libido, and what that has meant for my relationship O, someone i really care about, who rationally understands it is chemical, but who feels rejected nonetheless. i hate that i have lost half of my hair. and i hate that i have to ask people for their seat on the subway or i won’t make it through the ride, and i more than anything i hate being told to fuck off by my fellow subway riders. my vision is going (i’m seeing double a lot, for a while i was hallucinating), my memory left a long time ago (vis-a-vis startlogic), i am starting to experience real chemical depression, (as per all the prognoses of the drug treatment.)

yesterday was the one year mark from my diagnosis. there is no question this has been the hardest year of my life. the cruel irony is that it is something i have to endure myself (it is a very lonely affair, and only people who have been *really* sick get it) and yet, am completely dependent on everyone around me, for things i can’t do, for thinks i would normally be able to do, for understanding.

i have an intern who has been working with me for two months. she is dedicated, works remotely half of the time, and is doing a great job translating the  book into Spanish. Today I realized I never told her about the cancer. It was a really awkward moment. I guess i thought that I was going to tell her, or that I already told her, or something. I don’t like to tell people immediately, both b/c of pride, trust, and a desire for them to realize that I am normal. or rather really trying hard to pretend like everything is normal. but when i told her, all of a sudden she realized why I kept coming in late, and somedays couldn’t even make it in at all. why I was getting my schedule all confused. And why i have so many drugs on my studio desk.

i’m trying so hard to act like i am normal, but i’m not. i’m on a “highly toxic” treatment. it is so hard to look normal from the outside, and be falling apart on the inside and the edges. and i’m not just talking about the way the drugs fuck with my emotions, and the ensuing chemical depression, but having my body fall apart from the inside. i have so many holes in my tongue i can’t eat anything without pain. i have a permanent gash in the back of my mouth near my jaw. when i eat, i leave bloodstains on my napkin at the edges of my mouth. half of the time i can’t wear in-ear earphones because the lesions in my ears keep getting re-infected. My eyes flake off scales of skin.

but i’m trying so hard to act like i am normal. maybe too hard

i’m really scared about this coming trip. maybe that is why i am reacting so emotionally to this. after the last travel, i cancelled all travel excepting this trip to CAA. i’ve turned down speaking gigs in berlin, croatia, argentina, los angeles, university of iowa, etc. b/c traveling is so hard. traveling is hard just getting to and from my studio and my apartment.

i had lunch with an artist friend last week. i knew he had been sick a few years back, but i didn’t know what. something thyroid related. turns out he had thyroid cancer. while they were removing the thyroid they found it had spread to all the lymph nodes in his neck — out those came. it was so comforting to meet someone who had been dealing with all of these things. I have found people here and there who had been diagnosed, but usually at such an early stage that it was just one minor surgery. It was nice to talk to someone who had something more advanced, like myself, but who is living his life.  His condition requires a little bit more maintenance than mine will be at three years out, as I did not have any organs removed, but he gets it.

He was *really inspirational* for me to try to chill out, he has basically stopped traveling, or speaking publicly, keeps his studio in his apartment, and doesn’t go out for social events. And despite all of that, his career is soaring.  he helped me think about trying to not pretend like i am normal. to sleep in all day because that is what my body needs. to say no to things. more often. and to rest. because it is my life on the line.

I’m sorry if this is a lot. A big response. i don’t want you angry at me. i don’t want you to hold a grudge against me for something i either don’t remember, or couldn’t control.

i want to stay with you because i want to spend time with you. i want you to meet O. i could stay at my aunts, or cousins, or CHP has even offered her couch. but i don’t get to see you very often, and these days, with travel so much harder for me, i see you even less.

if there is anything specific i can do to avoid impinging on you more than a normal visit would, please let me know. can i order groceries from a Fresh Direct style delivery service? I’ll take you out for dinner every night. i’ll rent a car, if you think that would help. i will bring lots of cliff bars.

http://www.pinkdot.com/
http://www.paradiseo.com/

???

I love you dearly K, and I don’t want you upset with me,

m

Feeling better this morning

i hope i’m not speaking too soon, but this morning i just feel like i am a little bit hungover.  like three glasses of wine hungover.  i slept through the night.  i shot up around 1am.  its 11am now.  i slept 9 hours.  if i had chills and fever i was able to sleep through them.

It was relatively cold outside (74 or so) so S proposed not using the AC last night, and just having lots of fans.  So it was in the high 70’s.  Maybe that helped.

Tired, achy, and sick feeling, but this round was a whole order of magnitude better than the first round.

Self Injection Day 1: I learned how to shoot up!

The calm surrounding restarting the drugs evaporated about two hours before I had to head up there.  I started getting headachey and overheated.  I tried everything to make it go away (eating, drinking, pain killer.) it wouldn’t go away b/c it was psychosomatic.  This was happening a bit in PDX. My Dr there explained to me that it was a very well documented phenomenon that chemo/interferon patients get psychosomatic symptoms *before* they go to actually get the drug.  So chemo patients will start puking in the morning before they go to the hospital for chemo.  In my case, I got headaches, feverish and even more tired in the hour before I was going to leave for infusion.

My appointment was for 5pm.  I got there 15mins early.  But when I arrived at the office, it was like an episode from the twilight zone.  All the receptionists were different, they didn’t know the nurse practitioner I was there to see, they didn’t my Dr’s Physician’s Assistant, and they didn’t even know my doctors phone number. Apparently this office is used by different doctors each day.  Rather than have one set of receptionists and assistants, each doctor has their own set of receptionists and assistants.  I guess they just sit in a cubicle the rest of the time answering calls and scheduling appointments.

So I call up to the receptionist who is in her cubicle, and she says that she will page the nurse and send her down.  15 minutes later I call back, but it is 5:02 and the call goes straight to the message system.  The twilight zone receptionist leaves.  Doctors leave with their bags. You can see where this is going.  Knocking on doors I found someone who knew what I was talking about and who i was looking for.  He made some calls, and actually spoke to her: there was an emergency in the chemo clinic, but she would be down as soon as she could get there.  

About an hour passed.  I was starting to get more psychosomatically symptomatic.  Plus I was getting tired and hungry.  Right when I was really ready to walk out the door I decided to try the open-the-book-when-waiting-for-the-bus technique.  Right when you give up on the bus coming quickly, sit down and open up your book to read, the bus inevitably shows up before you finish the first page.  Its like Law of Nature.  So I announce that to S, who doesn’t quite get me, and I go turn on one of the computers in the waiting room.  They have two public computers to keep people from getting too bored.  And sure enough, right as the first little windows flag shows up in the boot cycle, the door opens and the nurse walks in.

After all that waiting, the injection was really easy.  I’m glad I got instruction, b/c I would have screwed some things up.  I would have pushed the needle in too far.  And not done it at the correct angle.  As is, I didn’t really do it at the right angle.

Pushing the needle in is painless.  As in, I couldn’t actually feel the needle enter my skin.  It was weird that way.  Injecting the IFN stung a bit.  I had to do it slowly.  I did the first half, then I did the rest.

After I did the injection I had this 5 minute spurt of energy, optimism, and other kinds of good feelings.  It was partly b/c it was over, and it was soooo much easier than I thought it would be.  But it was also probably partly chemical. I’m sure there were a lot of endorphins, or adrenaline or whatever that my brain pumped out when my brain groked that i *really* was about to stick a needle in me.  It was so weird to be looking down and think “I’m going to stick this needle into my stomach…”  and then to do exactly that.

Train ride sucked, but not that bad.  I got the headaches for real right as we turned the corner to the apt.  I got some chills, but not that bad.  I should transition to a mild fever shortly.  But overall, not so bad.  Not as bad as restarting.  Which is interesting because I am at the same dose that I was at for the second two weeks of IV, I just take it 3 times per week, rather than 5 times.  I guess the body doesn’t absorb as much when the IFN isn’t mainlined into the vein.