Monday, May 26, 2014

Chemo Begins - 5/24

So. I started chemo today. But I cried first. I went into an individual bathroom and video chat with a friend. I was bending down in front of the sink. Certainly was not an ideal scenario. Could also almost certainly be one for a sitcom - especially if the person was a germiphobe.

It has been a challenging day, and as already varied from my other chemo experience, but not necessarily in good ways.

I have been thinking I need to write my book. I have also been thinking that it might be hard to do, as active as this blog is. What if I diverted the meatier content to the book? What if I offered access to a different blog for a subscription fee? Even $5 or $10 per month would help me tremendously to get through this year. 

The problem is I have no way to set it up without it potentially costing more than what I make. At least to start. It is not much, but it is everything when you feel like you have nothing.

Such decisions to make. Such paths to take.

I also checked my bank account. $900. That is it, or was it, as I had to spend nearly $100 on much needed supplements which will in part help protect me from, or minimize the effects of, Neuropathy - or nerve damage.

I was also told about a $150 anti-nausea pill. Previously it was given intravenously. Now it is an extended release pill you are supposed to take for 3 days.

Well. That just ain't gonna happen.

Other options? Yes. But more annoying in implementation, and still a prescription. Hoping and praying the Sea Band does its trick. Cost: $30 plus the hassle of having to pick it up with potentially not feeling well - and even nauseous.

I also have my monthly health insurance premium coming up, and other expenses, like something as insignificant as food. Maybe I won't want to eat. Some might think losing a few pounds could be a good thing.

Not so much. If I lose weight via nausea or not eating, I am losing muscle. The docs won't want me in that shape for surgery. I am going to have to be pretty careful how I do this, if that starts to happen.

I still need help, now more than ever. I have been told one of the two chemos will not be a good friend. I can barely function today, and am typing with one eye closed. If this didn't feel so urgent, I might likely try to sleep.

I think a part of me does not want to. If I stay awake, can I pretend I am Ok, at least a little while longer? Can staying awake minimize chemo's ugly side effects?

Of course not. But don't tell me that. It is not anything I want to know, or acknowledge - kinda like the somewhat willful ignorance I have of my situation from a medical perspective and the gamble I am taking, as well all treatment medications I do not have to actively pursue.

I did not want to be here - but I now am. A part of me is in acceptance. Another part is potentially resigned, in denial. I am still working this out.

I would appreciate you joining me. What do you think? Would you be willing to donate $5 per month for private access to my world via blog and/or book? Was thinking of taking the recipe booklet approach. I would lib out drafts: Imperfect, unorganized, maybe rambling and confusing drafts. You could see me give birth to it, and continue to sculpt it. 

I would ask that you consider a year's commitment. After a year, even if you do not continue, I will still share the final version with you via electronic copy.

I really wonder if this is a good idea. The fact is, I don't know. I am soooo tired, and need to try to get some rest and be up again in a few hours.

What do you think? Are you willing to leap for me? It would mean so much to me, and I would love that it would hopefully mean something to you, too.

Would you be willing to share about this? If so, please do. Please.

Feel free to ask any questions you need that can help provide what is necessary for you to take the leap of trust.

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