February 18-28, 2017

It turns out that, as queasy and tired as I’ve been feeling, it used to be a whole lot worse for people being treated with this “Red Devil.”

According to my oncologist, what I’m experiencing is like a walk in the park on a sunny Sunday!

Patients would be in the hospital for fourteen to sixteen days “puking their guts out,” so doctors were afraid to use it.  If they did, it was administered in smaller doses for longer time periods.  I’m extremely grateful for the advancements in anti-nausea drugs that allow me heftier doses in a shorter time frame.

Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible, please.

I’m not gonna debate the use of these chemicals.  Yes, they are powerful.  Yes, they are extremely toxic.  They just happen to be what we have available today in the world of traditional medicine.

I choose to trust my medical team.

Some people opt into the realm of “natural” healing.  Some fall for pseudo-science concoctions that promise a cure.  I wish them success and good health and I pray that they really are “on to something.”

Looks like they trust someone too.

I’m not that brave.  I want to see the science behind the claims.

Can I look for a clinical trial?  Absolutely!  Am I willing to deviate from the tried and true?  Not so much.  We can all talk a good game till it’s our turn at bat.

Pay no attention to that sniveling coward behind the brave girl mask!

I’m well aware of the dangerous effects of my treatments, both now and years down the road.  They have to tell you that stuff, and I actually read it.

On the other hand, I’m encouraged to know that it’s shrinking my tumor, and that’s good enough for me right now.

Don’t even get me started on what I might have done “wrong” or how I might have avoided this mess, from the hormone replacement therapy that saved my sanity (and possibly the sanity of everyone around me) to everything I’ve ever microwaved in (gasp!) PLASTIC!

Yes, I’ve tipped more than a few drinks.  Yes, I’ve eaten fast food and I like sweets.  Used “colorful” language?  Guilty!   I’ll even admit to smoking some weed back in the day.  There are some sins only my closest friends know about that will follow me to my grave.

I had a hell of a lot of fun with some super duper fantastic awesome people and I’m thankful for both the experiences and for the people that shared them.

Mom asked me once, when she had me cornered on a bus headed downtown…”I know you’re no angel, but have you ever…?”

I wonder how long she had wanted to have that particular conversation.

I’m far from perfect.  In fact, I feel like a fraud coaching people in the ways of good health when here I am with cancer.

Like, how’d that work out?

On the other hand, I’ve learned the benefits of exercise and put them into practice. I try to eat “right” and am learning more ways to do that.  I’m looking forward to trying more healthy recipes when this is over.  I’m giving myself permission to rest and recover. If I can teach nothing else, these three things alone might help someone miss the cancer train.

There’s got to be a sweet spot.  It’s gotta be about balance for me.

Like I said, I’m not perfect.  I’m trying not to stress about the past or what the future holds.  I’ll do the best I can for as long as I can and let the chips fall where they may.

Maybe ten or twenty years from now, if another cancer tracks me down or if I develop heart issues, I’ll be singing a different tune.

It will likely be an angry head banger  with more than a few f-bombs!



Photo Credit: <a href=””>Simón Sánchez S.</a> Flickr via <a href=””>Compfight</a> <a href=””>cc</a>

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