... in my dream when I woke up this morning. Michelle, genius that she is, astutely noted that I'm coming up on another round of chemotherapy, and that that stresses me out. The stupid cancer's after me!
I have an appointment with the oncologist -- actually his nurse practitioner -- tomorrow afternoon, which means I'll be starting the chemo drugs again within a week or so.
I take the drugs on a cycle of five days on, 23 days off, and I can always tell when it's almost time to start again because I'll notice that I'm feeling pretty strong and energetic and, if I haven't been taking too many bad beats at the poker table, even happy. That can only mean one thing: Get ready to take a bunch of pills that'll make me feel like throwing up and sleeping all day, keep me from thinking straight and totally bum me out.
So, sorry for the bleak post. I'm getting into a bad mood on the come.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Something was chasing me ...
Posted by Mark at 4:41 PM
Labels: brain, Misanthrope
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1 comment:
One praiseworthy thing about those pills that 'totally bum you out'...
they're responsible for routinely helping you feel 'pretty strong,
energetic and even happy'.
Bleak posts, however, are allowed.
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