Dear Life: Enough of this nonsense.

At one point during my adventures living in Boston, I was the greeter/bag check at a guitar store. Daddy's Junky Music. Right smack across Massachusetts Avenue from Berklee College of Music. The manager "let me go" about three months after I started working there. His excuse was that since it was summertime, no one was buying guitars, and they didn't need me. Okay, fine. I didn't really like the job, and the next week I found a much better one as a bartender. I did, however, meet some ridiculous people while I worked there. Berklee not only attracts great musicians, it also attracts a horde of not-so-great musicians who like to bask in the glory of a school they could never get in to. All of these people, at one point or another, wandered through Daddy's and played the $2000 Gibson Les Paul's and such. Daddy's also rented equipment, so we frequently had crazy deejays and musicians getting stuff for a gig. One evening, there were two guys renting speakers and something else, a mixer maybe? While the one guy was filling out the paperwork, the other guy came and talked to me. Hell if I remember what we talked about, but I know at one point he told me that life is all about "whoever's got the groove and the best attitude." That is a direct quote; I know because I wrote it down. Now, I never saw the man again, and I never will. But I do try to live up to what he said.

I fear that right now I am letting down this crazy, dancing, loud and happy man. My attitude, so fantastically good for the past Seven months, is crashing down around me. My final course of chemotherapy has gotten pushed back another week. I have tried so hard not to complain, and especially not to complain on here, but I am seriously upset now. The terrible thing is this is my fault, not my doctor's. It's my platelets that aren't growing, my white blood cells that are keeping me from doing Anything. So I guess this is the bad part of cancer: the end. Your body is so worn down it doesn't regenerate half as well as it used to. It's hard because the end is So Close! It just keeps getting farther away. I need some motivation to get me through this, and going back to school isn't doing it for me anymore, especially since I don't know when I'll be back. I've lost the groove, and I'm losing my attitude. But I'm going to go eat my Cheerios, which will cheer me up temporarily. Okay. Peace.

A number of important things have happened today.

First off. So, Starbucks increased their prices. By Ten Cents. (nine if you use the average increase the media is tossing around). Honestly, I don't have any money as it is, and now they want me to cough up ten more cents? Dear Corn: I knew I never liked you. Now I really don't like you. Because, of course, this is all corn's fault. Basic economics: when the demand for one staple goes up, it affects the prices of basically everything else in the supermarket. Starbucks, my already overpriced ice cream shop (which is still delicious), and countless other fooderies, I'm sure, are jacking their prices because the price of dairy and wheat and vegetables and groceries in general have all gone up. Yes, ethanol is a good fuel source. But is it worth the tremendous increase in food prices?

Secondly: My financial aid for the upcoming school year was granted! Hoorah! Now I will definitely be able to return to school in the fall, and a major stressball has been eliminated. I have made huge progress with my two papers as well, so that will be another weight off my shoulders soon.

And finally, I went for a walk today. This is important for at least two reasons. One: I feel well enough and have enough energy to walk for half an hour (remember I haven't done much moving for the past three or four weeks). Two: I ran a little bit during the walk. Alright, it was more of a glorified jog, and it was probably less than 100 meters, but nonetheless, it was a solid attempt at running, twice in the thirty minutes. My legs were like, "Wow, yeah, this is awkward," and my lungs were like, "Are you joking?" But I did it, and I eventually cooled off, and at no point did I think I was going to pass out. It's going to be quite a long road to full recovery, but I am pumped for it. At this point, I'm just tired of being sick. Hoh well. Let's get through tomorrow. Happy Tuesday, sad toad.

(cbridges86@gmail.com e-mail me!)

Anybody want to start a band?

Seriously. Anybody. If you have musical talent and want to show the world, call me and we'll get together. At some point in my life, I would like to tour in a band. Whether or not we're any good is unimportant. I just want to sing with people. Maybe bust out my guitar every once in a while. Anyway, that's one of the many things on my To Do Life list. Another one is bike through western Europe. Of course, running a marathon is on there as well, along with a vague rock climbing dream.

Anyway, the reason I mention this is because I am beginning to get my energy back. Which of course means I want to go do things. I will find out tomorrow if my white blood cells have grown back enough so that I can be around people again. It would be nice to have the rest of the week free to frolic... in the...field, um, what? But I also hope my counts are high enough that I can possibly start my chemo early, early being Wednesday as opposed to next Monday. We'll see.

The other good news is that the gears are all grinding away in the process of getting me back to school. I've been in touch with my professors for next semester, and so far there seems to be no major issues with my coming in a little late. I'm getting excited. Not that I haven't been excited about returning to school for the past almost eight months, but now everything is tightening up. My return is still so maddeningly far away, but at least now there are set details and not just a misty longing. Now, if only my hair would start to grow back.... One thing at a time, I guess. Pax.

What do you mean, the week is over?

Where did it go? I suppose a better question would be, where did the summer go? I can't believe this is the last weekend of July. I have spent the past two months in and out of the hospital. In those two months, I don't think I have been out of the hospital any longer than maybe ten days. Maybe. I'm going for two weeks this time, but apparently I'm neutropenic again, so there are no guarantees. As long as my intestine doesn't decide to free any more e-coli into my bloodstream...

I have spent this past week sleeping, with a very few notable exceptions. One was my interview on Wednesday, which I am currently transcribing. Another is this morning. I've mentioned before that a family friend of ours is running the Chicago Marathon with Team in Training, helping raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Woo! Anyway, so she invited me to come and meet her running group this morning. I rolled myself out of bed at 6 am and headed to the lakefront to say some vaguely inspiring things to a group of people who had just run between 8 and 12 miles. I think I'm more inspired by them though. They pull themselves out of bed every Saturday morning to run extreme distances, not to mention the running they do during the week, while maintaining families and jobs, all for a very good cause. I mean, not too many people do that. I don't think I'll be here for the actual Marathon, but I sure will be cheering them all on.

Otherwise, there's not much. My arms are covered in large bruises and small cuts from peripheral IVs. My platelets are still pretty low, so none of the old bruises are going away, and new ones keep forming. I think I'll just admit I'm a junkie and get it over with. That's sure what it looks like anyway. I find the bruises somewhat amusing, but mostly they annoy me. Maybe one day I'll be normal again. I hope that day comes soon... I'm starting to get worried. Oh well. Peace out.

Man, am I pooped.

It is not even 9:00 pm, and I am already planning out the best way to get to bed. Because, of course, there's a whole procedure I have to go through before I can actually plop down and sleep. But it varies depending on how tired I am. Tonight, I am tremendously tired, so it's going to be a short lead up to a long sleep.

Today was a busy day for me. It all started when I woke up. The details of my morning, however interesting, I won't write too much about. Suffice it to say that I did some stuff. My afternoon was somewhat more notable. Today I was finally able to do my interview for the profile I was supposed to have written last December. I was supposed to have done the interview last week, but unfortunate circumstances (coughecolicough) dictated otherwise. But I think it went very well. Now I just have to write the paper, which shouldn't be too hard. After that, there was some walking around, which I haven't done in a while, and then I went to group. This doesn't sound like a lot, and I am somewhat disappointed in myself for how tired I am. But I know this past infection seriously zapped my strength. It's super lame.

Finally, my brain isn't functioning too well, so it's possible this post doesn't make much sense. Essentially, I'm tired, so I'm going to sleep. If you are tired, you should sleep also. We can all have a big, happy sleep. And so, Goodnight.

cbridges86@gmail.com. E-mail me!!!

If I didn't update for a week, would people start to worry?

Sadly, we won't be finding out today. Much time has passed since my thoughts and wisdom have been put to virtual paper. Many things have happened, not the least of which is the Red Sox defeated the White Sox in a four game series, although they did not sweep it, so Hah. And many questions have, I'm sure, germinated in curious readers' minds. I suppose the most important question that has arisen is, "Where in the world is Caroline?" I have returned to answer this question and more.

I am home. Yay. I got home on Friday, after much discussion and equivocating from my doctors who wanted to keep me until Monday. The main reason they wanted to keep me in the hospital was because I still needed IV antibiotics for another week, and they didn't know if it would be possible to have those given at home. There was also talk of putting another line in me, this time through a vein in my arm. To cut a long and stressful day short, my research nurse finally confirmed I could get the antibiotics at home, starting Saturday. The doctors didn't need to put in another line; I just have a peripheral IV in my arm for the drugs. Incidentally, I am pretty sure I would have had an emotional breakdown if they had tried to insert another piece of plastic tubing in me. Life is so much better without catheters. So I am finally home, the bacteria have been defeated, and all is well again.

I apologize for my disappearance (kind of), but I have barely opened my computer the past four days. The weather has been beautiful outside, and also, I pretty much spent the whole weekend reading Harry Potter. I read the 6th book between Friday and Saturday, and I read the 7th between last night and now-ish. Yes, I'm a nerd. My other excuse is that this past infection drained a lot of the little strength I have, so I really don't feel like moving too much. Honestly, I'm worried about how I'll feel in six weeks, which is when I finish chemo. So much depends on my getting through this last bit. It's like a marathon: your body begs you to stop running after mile 20, but you will it to keep going those last 6.2 miles. So it is with me. I just hope I can stay healthy by sheer will power. We'll see.

Finally: e-mail me! I'd love to hear from everyone who reads this but doesn't want to comment publicly. I'm sure you all have thoughts, so if you'd like to share them, please do. cbridges86@gmail.com. That's cbridges86@gmail.com. Peace.

I know what it is!

I have figured out why I have so many issues with the food here. Part of the problem is that it's mass-produced hospital food. But I've had dorm food for the past six years, so I should be generally used to it. The food's main deterrent for me is that everything is packed with sodium. Yesterday, I ordered oatmeal for breakfast thinking, "How can you mess up oatmeal?" There was so much salt in it I actually started gagging. I tried adding brown sugar to cancel it out, but oddly enough, that made the flavor worse. See, my family has never used salt in cooking. Well, we have never added salt -- many foods and marinades already have salt. So I can't stand added sodium. And now is not the time to try and force my taste buds to acquire a liking for salt. (Although I have a problematic passion for Baked Lays.) I am glad, though, that I solved that issue. (p.s., there might be a difference between sodium and salt, but I'm not sure and don't feel like researching the distinction. Thanks.)

I am stilling chilling out in my hospital room. My white blood cell count has bounded up to 0.3. The cells are growing, which is good, but they are being pokey, which is tedious. At least they have the right idea. I think all other counts are decent. I did some squats today to try and keep my legs in shape, and I didn't pass out, so that's exciting. Hoorah red blood. Ooh, also: I forgot to follow up on this. My doctor removed my catheter on Sunday. Correction: He yanked it out of my chest. He loosened it up a little around my collarbone, cut the sutures that were holding it in place, held onto the tubes with both hands, and pulled the tube with all of his strength. And out it came. I still have a bandage over the hole, but I think I'll be able to remove it tomorrow or Friday. I also kept the catheter, so don't worry, everyone will be able to get a good look. And no, it's not infectious. I checked. Now I just have an IV poking out of the top of my left hand, but it'll come out when I leave the hospital. Otherwise, just playing the Waiting Game, thinking happy white blood cell thoughts! and Happy Hump Day. Peace.