Well, so this is interesting.

Apparently, my body no longer likes food. My appetite has hugely decreased over the past few weeks, mostly since I started this second session of chemo. I never really feel like eating anymore, and when I occasionally become hungry, I'm torn between whether I actually feel hungry or if it's nausea. Strangely, they feel similar. I had Crispix for breakfast this morning, delicious, delicious Crispix. But now I feel terrible. It's stupid. A crunchy whole-grain breakfast cereal should not be making me want to tear out my stomach and intestines and leave them on the floor. And now I probably won't eat again for a good long time. Yesterday, for example, I had a bagel for breakfast. Alright, can't go wrong with a bagel. Except that it filled me up to where I had trouble finishing said bagel. And I didn't want to eat anything for the rest of the day. When I finally met my mom for dinner around 5 p.m., I was pretty hungry. But, and here's the frightening part, at the restaurant, all I could eat was most of a crab cake and a couple bites of my pasta. And this is after not having eaten for about 7 or 8 hours. Needless to say, this lack of appetite bit is annoying. Although, it's not like I'm doing much where I need to be eating a lot. I am starting to lose weight again, albeit much slower than when I was in the hospital. I'm hoping it's not muscle though. I am literally counting the days until it's warm enough outside that I can go for a bike ride. I'm thinking two, maybe three weeks? It helps to have something to look forward to, a reason to keep putting up with the daily toils. I have a bike and the prospect of seeing friends soon. And while it's supposed to snow and sleet on us here for the next day or so, I know it will eventually melt, and things will grow again. Woo. And hopefully, one day, I'll eat like a normal person again.

19 minutes until "Lost...." Quick post

So, apparently I'm dumb. I spent the past two weeks thinking that today, Wednesday, was the day I had to go in for my third asparaginase shot. Turns out, I was supposed to have gone in yesterday. Cool. It ended up not being a big deal though. They squeezed me in at the clinic and no lasting harm done. Although, the nurses messed up my lab orders and ended up drawing a whole lot of blood that they didn't need. Oh well. I've been feeling much better these past few days. I had been feeling like week-old porridge. But the nausea's mostly gone, as is my headache. My doctor told me though to tell her immediately if I ever get "the worst headache of [my] life." If that happens, there could potentially be bleeding in my brain, which would be not so good. I have also found myself taking daily naps. I guess the ten hours of sleep I get at night just isn't enough. I used to feel guilty about it, but now I've realized, why not? I mean, there will pretty much be no other time in my life when I can sleep nine, ten hours at night and also get a two-hour nap in the day. Hahaha. Now, I know you really wish you were me.

In other news, I think I might go to an open-mic tomorrow night. I'm still immuno-suppressed, so it might not be the best idea, but my counts are much higher now. I think I'll probably end up going. The issue will be in whether I balls up and perform something. We'll see. And otherwise, that's about it for me. I have a biopsy next Tuesday, and then the Monday after that I start my third session of chemo. It's six weeks long and involves some hospital stays, so I'm not particularly excited about it. But I guess I just have to make the most of the next week and a half. Alrightly, pax for tonight.

Pork.

Say it aloud. Twice. Now, tell me that's not a funny word. Not to mention delicious. Mmmm, pork tenderloin for dinner. Oh, and the best part is that I cooked most of it, with help and constant advice from my mother. In other news, I feel much better today. Thanks to modern medicine! My anti-nausea pills were totally effective in preventing nausea from controlling my day. All it took was one little brown pill, yes brown, and my stomach was calmed; and I could even eat without feeling ill! How does it work, you ask? Well, this particular pill is of the 5-HT3 class of medications that essentially block the release of serotonin from the small intestine, a reaction that is triggered by some chemotherapy drugs. Apparently, serotonin helps initiate the vomiting reflex. So, by blocking this chemical, the stomach doesn't have the reaction that results in upchuck. This one is supposed to be taken before you get sick; it prevents nausea. I have two other types of pills that are for breakthrough nausea. They affect the brain and I guess more of the neurological side of vomiting. So that's fun. I haven't messed with the brain ones though; my mind is messed up enough already. I read somewhere that chemo affects your brain, and when you finally come off it, well basically, it takes your brain a while to get back to its former smart-glory. Fuzzy thoughts, hard to concentrate, that sort of thing. Good thing I don't have to worry about that until September. HAH.

But anyway, it's been a good day. My nurse took my blood this morning, and I received no frantic phone calls saying "You need Blood!!! Aaaaaah!" So that's good. Although, it'd be exciting if someone called me and said exactly that. It felt like spring outside today. Spring! I guess there are even robins making their way back to Chicago. So that's optimistic. Warmer, greener days are not that far away. Things to remember. Alright, that's it. Happy Tuesday, sad toad.

Still in confinement.

Hopefully my blood cell counts will start recovering sometime this week. It's supposed to be in the fifties by this weekend, and I am desperate to go outside. Well, go outside without freezing my buns off. Winter's great; it's beautiful outside. I love the snow, for sure. But warmer weather will be nice. In cancer news, interestingly, I've started to feel generally not well. My headache is pretty consistent now, and I've started feeling nauseous as well. Apparently the effects of chemotherapy are cumulative. During the times when I'm not neutropenic, my blood counts are still lower than a healthy person's. In terms of the side-effects, I guess those worsen too. So, the first month of treatment, I was okay. I felt healthy, I recovered quickly, the whole deal. Now, however, I'm starting to feel the side-effects. They're building themselves a nice solid structure in my body. Taking root, as it were. It's a good time. As of yet, it isn't debilitating. I can still go about my daily activities --such as they are-- normally. I'm just hoping as the months progress, they won't worsen significantly. For now though, just plugging along with what I've got. Not much else I can do, I suppose. I don't know, is there some hotline I can call, be like, "hey guys, okay, I've tried the side-effects, I didn't really like them, you can take them away now?" Because that would be sweet. But I don't think there is. Oh well.

And that's about it. I finished Garcia-Marquez' Love in the Time of Cholera. I liked the book, but I was disappointed by the ending. The book is long and he is a very intelligent and articulate author (can I call a writer articulate? I don't actually think so...). But his ending just sort of seemed to me like he didn't know how to end it, so he came up with something pedestrian and expected. Oh well. If you've read it, comments? If you haven't read it, it's pretty good if you have a high tolerance for well-written yet fairly drawn out literature. Although, I suppose if you're reading this, you're used to the fairly drawn out. Meh, we'll both live. Well, tomorrow's a holiday, so enjoy it if you have it off. Every day is a holiday for me, kind of, but at least tomorrow I have a somewhat legitimate reason for loafing. hoorah for the presidents. And then Tuesday, man, you had better believe I'll be eating pancakes. Yah! (Mardi gras. Look it up.) Alright, pax from he-ah.

So I've been thinking

Which, I suppose, explains the headaches... But no really. If there's any advantage to being holed up in my house with naught but my computer and various books for amusement, I've had a lot of time to think about things. Recently, given current events and holidays, my mind has mostly been preoccupied with the idea of love and the idea of death. Particularly death, since that's a bit more real for me now. Love is still a fairy-tale. I've realized that I'm not afraid of death. I by no means want to die. And I know that I'm not going to anytime soon. I still have a lot of stuff to do. But I've accepted that I will eventually die. And there's a pretty good chance I'll die before a lot of people my age. If something goes wrong in the hospital or if I get an infection. Or if the cancer comes back in any number of years, more malignant and spreading. While fairly unlikely, there is always that chance, that nagging doubt of complete remission. In terms of dying though, I've decided that if I can look back on everything that I've done so far and be happy with it, then it's okay. I figure people are only afraid of death because they feel their lives are incomplete; they have regrets. I am 20 years old. I still have a good number of years ahead to make bad choices. But as of now, I'm happy with what I've done so far. I mean, how many 20-year olds can say that in the same year, they were in a band, bartended, drank South African wine in southern France, drank Dutch beer on a rock in northern Ontario, worked full time at fantastic jobs in addition to school, and got cancer? I mean, come on, who does that? So, if I died any time soon, it would totally suck, but it would be okay. I think also that the fear of death is strongly associated with our fears of being forgotten. It's kind of like, if no one remembers you or anything you've done, what have you accomplished with your life? For the most part, we remember those who made an impact on other people, whether through words or actions or even personalities. Shakespeare, Lincoln, Nixon. Hell, Nixon helped shift the mentality of an entire country. In terms of me though, I have a written account of the person I was and am. I have pages and pages of ink exhibiting various stages of handwriting. Depression, happiness, boredom, pretty much every emotion you can think of, are all chronicled in variously sized notebooks. Even if no one ever reads them (which I hope someone does), my words will live on. And now, with this blog bit, some of them are accessible to people I've never met. But maybe something I say will mean something to them. Maybe not; it's kind of a crap shoot. But to die knowing that you have no regrets and that people will remember you for one reason or another, hopefully a pleasant one, I feel that's a pretty good goal to have. I'm pretty close to that goal now, and I hope to always be, no matter where my life takes me.

And that's my insight for the day. I don't know, I was at clinic this morning, and some of the people there are so sick. It's terrible because you know they're in pain. And it made me wonder, for the ones whose chemo doesn't work, are they afraid of dying? I don't know. I hope not. Anyway, death hasn't been the only thing on my mind. But I won't subject anyone to more musings. If you're interested in what I have to say, call. I'll come up with something mildly philosophic and insightful, just enough so that you're fooled into thinking I'm intelligent. (Don't tell, but most of the time I'm faking.) So that's it for today. Enjoy the long weekend. pax.

It's rather chilly outside.

The clouds have been throwing up on the Chicago-area all day today. We have lots of snow. It's funny: snow is nice to look at, but when you start digging into foot-high drifts of it, it gets real old real fast. Basically, this verbal fluff is preluding the fact that I shoveled our driveway this evening, with the help of me padre. I reiterate the fact that snow is much heavier than it looks. I am pretty freaking tired now though, especially after having had to wake up at 6 this morning. The good news is that I did indeed make a snow-angel in our front yard. I actually made two, as well as a tramped-out heart in honor of the Hallmark holiday tomorrow. Hah, like I need an excuse to eat chocolate. But I won't get into tomorrow. I'm going to read books and watch V for Vendetta. The usual quiet, neutropenic, wander around my house day. And the way things are going, I'll probably end up shoveling again. Yay winter.

In other news, I went to clinic today for chemo. I ended up waiting about two and a half hours for them to clear and finally bring up my drug from the pharmacy. Today's was the special butt-shot drug. It took all of ten seconds; I waited around for maybe ten minutes so they could monitor me, make sure I didn't fall out of my chair and start twitching on the floor; and then we headed home. And that was it. It's funny too because apparently the road we took home was actually closed in the afternoon. So, I guess despite having to wait for a good long while at clinic, the 6 a.m. wake-up was worth it.

My brain's really fuzzy right now. I blame it on the chemo. Because I can and no one's going to dispute it. I think I mostly just need to sleep though. I actually have a decent headache, and if it's not a direct result of the chemicals, they certainly aren't helping matters. Anyway, so I apologize if this post isn't up to my usual level of trenchant yet deliciously addictive prose. I will try and be more on top of my game the next time I write. Yup, that's all I've got. alright, pax.

Unfortunately, this installment will be lacking.

What exactly it will be lacking, I am not sure of. I am, however, sure that I don't have any exciting new updates on the war against drugs. I mean cancer. damnit, and typing that just reminded me that I have two pills I need to take, right now. Crap, I'll be back. And I'm back. I didn't choke on the horsepill, although the smaller one gave me some grief. Honestly, I am the worst person to have gotten cancer. There are so many things to remember. 5 pills in the morning, one of which I take at night too. And then there's the really big one that I only have to take three times a week, but that's twice a day as well. Not anymore, but when they were giving me one particular chemo drug, I had to put drops in my eyes every six hours. And I have to remember to flush my lines every other day... I'm a generally organized person, but that's because I absolutely have to be. My memory is actually terribly erratic. If my life was messy, I would be so lost all the time. I found some of my handwritten schedules I made for myself this past semester, and they were pretty much scripted to the hour. Haha, if I can't remember to take the nightly pill that will save me from getting pneumocystic pneumonia, God only knows what will happen when I enter the professional world and have deadlines and other people expecting things from me. Should be a good time.

Otherwise, that's about it. They transfused my blood and platelets yesterday. My nose is no longer bleeding like a faucet with a constant drip (when your platelets are low, your blood has trouble clotting, therefore wounds tend to stay open longer. Also a good time). And I don't get as dizzy when I stand up quickly. Basically, blood is a good thing. Every time you stand up without feeling your world start spinning and that blackness coming in around the edges of your vision, thank your normal blood counts. Mmm, there's nothing better than oxygen making it to the brain. Tomorrow I get another drug pushed into me, L-asparaginase. Chemo, kills cell, blah blah. I sort of psych myself out whenever I have to go to the clinic. I know nothing will happen, no side effects or reactions, but I still get anxious about going. I'm going to blame that on the chemo side-effects (anxiety is listed as a side-effect for some drugs). Haha. Or me being a wimp. Either way, I look forward to its being over. Snow is coming to Chicago, and I'm still on house arrest until my immune system gets back to relative-normal. (Incidentally, it's not really that bad. I drink too much hot chocolate and poke around a lot on the computer. I also wrote two new songs today, bringing my set list to about eleven songs. Sweet.) Well, hopefully this post wasn't as lacking as I initially thought it would be. I always seem to write more than I planned. Oh well. Happy Tuesday sad toad.