Day 1 - Dreaded Responsiblities
The mass began in the stomach area, and having spread from there, quickly infected the eyes, and the limbs. Once the cells were in metastasis they were difficult to stop. In all likely hood they would simply take over the entire entity, shutting it down from head to toe, and draining it of any visible signs of life.
The disease is prevalent and there is no known cure.
It is called "boredom."
To say I am familiar with the condition is an understatement. I lived in it. Officially, it's called Connecticut.
Don't worry this isn't about to turn into a, "I was born in..." post. Really the only thing I have to say about Connecticut is that I lived there for most of my life, and it was really fucking boring. I used to think there was nothing redeeming about it, but now I realize that I wouldn't be so motivated to get stuff moving in my life if I hadn't lived in a place where I had nothing going for me. I know what boredom feels like, I don't need to slump around my room doing nothing to get a taste of it.
So I guess an uneventful childhood can play a big part in shaping who you are.
I was getting bored the last week or so. I guess cancer is just not as exciting as getting hit by a car, teetering on the precipice between life and death. No. Instead you're sitting in a waiting room for an hour and half to get a unimportant blood test, or get a baseline for your respiratory functions. It's not all particularly exhilarating.
But today, I got to sit down and get my first dose of chemo. Etoposide (VePesid), and Platinal (Cisplatin) injected over a 5 hour period, is definitely new territory for me. I memorized the names of the drugs, and then delved into a great book called Mom's Marijuana by Dan Shapiro. I highly recommend it for it's wit and inspiration. It's written by a guy who went through chemo, radiation, bone marrow transplant, and probably some other stuff. Much more serious stuff than I'm going to have to go through. It's a relief to read. I want to get a life changing experience out of this, but not at the expense of my health, and that of my family's. And that really is what this is about.
No one goes through cancer alone. If I did, it would probably be easier. I wouldn't have to call up friends I haven't seen in months just to tell them I have cancer. I wouldn't have to respond to emails from concerned and loving relatives, thanking them and reassuring them I'll be alright. I wouldn't have to worry about whether my parents are worrying too much about me. I feel bad that I can't deal with this by my self and not bother or worry or burden anybody else. But it feels even worse to keep secrets, to keep people in the dark, to not be able to tell them whats going on with my life. So I compromise. I've been putting it off for as long as possible, but as of yesterday, all of my close friends and family are aware of my condition, and I've written or talked with them all on the phone. It had to be done. Just as the doctors are responsible for making sure I get through this okay, I'm responsible for showing everyone else that I can.
I'm not sure I'm doing the greatest job.
I specifically wrote down on my agenda to tell the girl i met in Florida the next time we talked that I'll be doing chemo.
Instead I ended up calling her up at 2:30am drunk, while playing a tribe called quest song 40 times in succession and repeatedly asking her "Can I kick it?" Insisting she reply, "Yes you can!" That conversation lasted an hour.
...Next time then.
The disease is prevalent and there is no known cure.
It is called "boredom."
To say I am familiar with the condition is an understatement. I lived in it. Officially, it's called Connecticut.
Don't worry this isn't about to turn into a, "I was born in..." post. Really the only thing I have to say about Connecticut is that I lived there for most of my life, and it was really fucking boring. I used to think there was nothing redeeming about it, but now I realize that I wouldn't be so motivated to get stuff moving in my life if I hadn't lived in a place where I had nothing going for me. I know what boredom feels like, I don't need to slump around my room doing nothing to get a taste of it.
So I guess an uneventful childhood can play a big part in shaping who you are.
I was getting bored the last week or so. I guess cancer is just not as exciting as getting hit by a car, teetering on the precipice between life and death. No. Instead you're sitting in a waiting room for an hour and half to get a unimportant blood test, or get a baseline for your respiratory functions. It's not all particularly exhilarating.
But today, I got to sit down and get my first dose of chemo. Etoposide (VePesid), and Platinal (Cisplatin) injected over a 5 hour period, is definitely new territory for me. I memorized the names of the drugs, and then delved into a great book called Mom's Marijuana by Dan Shapiro. I highly recommend it for it's wit and inspiration. It's written by a guy who went through chemo, radiation, bone marrow transplant, and probably some other stuff. Much more serious stuff than I'm going to have to go through. It's a relief to read. I want to get a life changing experience out of this, but not at the expense of my health, and that of my family's. And that really is what this is about.
No one goes through cancer alone. If I did, it would probably be easier. I wouldn't have to call up friends I haven't seen in months just to tell them I have cancer. I wouldn't have to respond to emails from concerned and loving relatives, thanking them and reassuring them I'll be alright. I wouldn't have to worry about whether my parents are worrying too much about me. I feel bad that I can't deal with this by my self and not bother or worry or burden anybody else. But it feels even worse to keep secrets, to keep people in the dark, to not be able to tell them whats going on with my life. So I compromise. I've been putting it off for as long as possible, but as of yesterday, all of my close friends and family are aware of my condition, and I've written or talked with them all on the phone. It had to be done. Just as the doctors are responsible for making sure I get through this okay, I'm responsible for showing everyone else that I can.
I'm not sure I'm doing the greatest job.
I specifically wrote down on my agenda to tell the girl i met in Florida the next time we talked that I'll be doing chemo.
Instead I ended up calling her up at 2:30am drunk, while playing a tribe called quest song 40 times in succession and repeatedly asking her "Can I kick it?" Insisting she reply, "Yes you can!" That conversation lasted an hour.
...Next time then.
posted by sleepwithoutdreams at 11:20 PM
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