Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
writing therapy for an introverted, concave-chested, breast cancer-fighting Me.
Followers
Blog Archive
-
▼
2010
(92)
-
▼
March
(14)
- repeat from 3:00 to 5:30 a.m., while focusing on t...
- a postal moment
- the miracle question
- the big toe of mood stability
- is this boredom?
- hooray for steroids
- agency and pathways
- a pause for Casey
- what a rack(et)
- sewage, and I don't mean food
- strained relations
- taxol: round one, day 3
- pardon
- time and poison
-
▼
March
(14)
I love you, Paula! Love, love, L-O-V-E, LOVE you. That's all that's on my mind after reading your two most recent posts. I'll be thinking of you on Thursday and sending you lots of good juju!
ReplyDeleteNot at all, Paula! I salute you (there's that military metaphor again)for your honesty. This is hard, hard stuff you're dealing with and anybody who knows anything about cancer or chemo knows it's tough-tough going.
ReplyDeleteYou whine, scream, cry, pity yourself all you want and need, Girl! We can take it.
p.s. I will be sending you lots of positive vibes on Thursday.
btw- excellent alliteration!
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your telling it like it is, Paula. And I agree-- cool alliteration.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you tomorrow.
XXXXX,
Sam
Perfectly preposterous, Paula, to pretend pain is paltry.
ReplyDeleteNo pardon needed. I agree with everyone above,-- Ellen, Sam, Marilyn and Emily.I will keep you in my thoughts through the day tomorrow and I hope the post-chemo week is better than you are expecting.
ReplyDeleteLove,LL
I love you, dear sister.
ReplyDeleteI join with the many in hoping the Taxol regimen is easier -- much easier -- than expected.
Paula, I didn't see it as pity at all, & who would care if it were. who would give an f? It's suffering. Sounds like your posse can contain the suffering. Please don't apologize. It is a poison. That's the dilemma. The hope in chemo has always been to find the magic med that kills the cancer cells, but leaves other quickly deciding cells alone. I suggest you take the drugs that are needed for symptoms. I worked with an oncology nurse, she would walk into each patient's room & say,'pain is not an option'. The trick is get an anti constipation med at the same time. Sadly I didn't know about your blog at the outset when you had post surgery constipation or I would have driven down myself with antidotes. Over the counter Mag Citrate in green bottle. Drink half, if doesn't work, drink other half. Better yet, a script for Lactulose from doc. Guaranteed to work. Check with doc re both, as I don't know if chemo makes them unusable or not. Take narcotics to point you need along with an anti constipation. Why deepen hell?
ReplyDeleteAlso steroids, yes keep you awake, also affect mood. What you call pity, may simply be steroids knocking at a neuron door. Also, cancer war battle imagery works for some, not for others. Do what works for you, and damn anyone who gives advice who isn't living it, me included. Heart is strong. Can handle some damage, cross that bridge later. Have you noticed how you're changing? I feel from you a deeper love & sensitivity. How ironic in the midst of this. I love you & how you & your family pulled me out of my swamp for many years. I am now equipped to do any swamp pulling out of necessary.
Paula, Lots of love and wisdom above. Hope today went OK and you are resting comfortably now.
ReplyDeleteIt always amazes me how we can be empathetic toward others and even pity them but somehow feel it's wrong to be empathetic toward ourselves. I found nothing wrong with you being sensitive to the fact that there is nothing fair about you being tortured.
ReplyDelete