Not Writing

So i totally suck.

I didnt even write about my last chemosification.

I didnt even bother to update you guys about how we almost didn't do the final chemosification on October 8th because of the numbness on my fingers. These dumb chemo side effects. But no frets, we did after I begged the chemo nurse to do it because I was so anxious to get it done.

I didnt even write how my nausea was so bad that I started vomitting blood the day after the final chemosification and I was admitted in the hospital for a little over 3 days.

I didn't even write how beautiful the new Kaiser they built and how nice the nurses were - she totally let me borrow her US Weekly so i wouldn't be so bored. Holler to getting my Robsten news on time!

I didn't even write how I was secretly happy that I was admitted because of they did a better job hydrating me than I would have done on my own. They kept me on so much IVs, I requested to move my bed next to the toilet.

I didn't even write how they kept poking me on my stomach to take these meds (neupogen and the one for blood clotting) that they bruised my stomach for days. And it hurt like a motha.

I didn't even write how bad the nausea was after I got out but I guess that doesn't really matter now.

I also didn't write about how I am switching oncs. As stated in my previous blogs, my onc is the twin sister of Cruela Deville.

I also didn't write about how awful she was in dealing with me that she seriously thinks "maybe" is an acceptable answer to "Is bowling bad for my lymphedema?"

I also didn't write that she actually thought "we had a great relationship" and was surprised when she found out I was leaving.

I also didn't write how they made me wait 5 hours until I finally got my first Herceptin-only treatment, which lasted about 30 mins.

I also didn't write how seriously I am done with them and I am kinda hoping she is reading this so she doesn't repeat it with other patients.

I totally forgot to write about the time I met the Radiology Oncologist and he thought the cancer was on my left boob instead of the right. He says because the left boob has a more noticeable scar and sags like a 90 year old lady's. OK, so he didn't say that but Im assuming - how else could you spot the difference?

I totally forgot to write about the mini tattoos they had to do for radiation. Um hi radiologist assistant lady, when you say it will not hurt, IT IS NOT SUPPOSED TO HURT. Oh, but it totally did.

I totally forgot to write about getting my rads schedule. I read somewhere that the 3 week therapy instead of 6 is available. I asked the rads onc and he said yes so voila, we are 3 weeks closer to being done with this whole cancer treatment sha-bang. Actually, I lie. I still have herceptin for the rest of the year til June 2010 but who's counting, right?

What am i NOT forgetting lately...

Oh yeah, I am going to Philadelphia for the LBBC Conference. I am moving out of my mom's house in 3 weeks. I am absolutely in love with Zumba no matter how hard it kicks my ass...

and last but not least, Twilight Saga:New Moon comes out in 12 days.

Of course, I don't forget the important things. ;)

My Most Embarrassing Experience

So let me tell you a little story...

Last night I went out with my girls. My bff Laura was in town for the weekend and we haven't seen her in months. We went bowling and had some drinks (correction: they did - I vowed to stop drinking after chemo). Then it was 12ish and they decided to go to the bar inside the bowling alley. My friend asks if its fine since I don't drink but I don't really need alcohol to have a good time so I don't decline. I get to the door and this security guy says, "ID please." So I pull it out and I hand it to him.

He looks at me. Then looks back at my ID.

Then he looks at me again. Then back at my ID.

Just silence for the next minute or so until I finally realize what is going on.

"Thats me."

"No it isn't."

"Im pretty sure it is."

He does this condescending grunt. "Huh. Thats not you."

So I laugh nervously and I tell him its me. He says no one more time and I knew my chances of getting in all depends on how good I could convince this MF that I am the same person.

"Do you really want to know why I don't look like that?" He grunts one more time as he waited for my answer.

"I have cancer. I don't have hair." I was about to keep going until I saw that these few words drained the blood from his face as he grabbed the wristband to put it on me. "Don't feel bad," I tried to comfort him.

However, I wish I would have saved the comforting for me. I felt like shit. I was so embarrassed that it took all my courage to stay. I should have gone straight home. My night was ruined and the incident kept playing in my head. I was a little miffed with the security guy, considering he didn't card the rest of my friends and the one time he actually does his job, he gets this trickery from some cancer chick.

I'm over this incident, though. I mostly miffed at myself. I feel like no matter how hard I try to make excuses for myself, I caused this. I am bald. My eyebrows are patchy and my already thin eyelashes are disappearing. I am also 30 lbs overweight - the fattest I have been in my life. Nothing fits me right. I also look tired most of the time, I have lost the will to put on makeup because there are no good results even when I try. I am forced to wear a sleeve that looks like a prosthetic arm.

But I could have been a really hot bald chick. I shouldn't have eaten all those fries. Should have not made excuses for all the junk I ate during chemo. Should not have had those "last suppers" and acted like a hungry, starving child. I also should have kept putting on makeup. Should not have been lazy and used feeling like crap as an excuse to look like crap. Should have kept doing my exercises so my arm doesn't blow up like a balloon.

So now, Im being proactive because chemo is done and I was humiliated beyond belief.

Step 1: I joined a gym and vowed to lose the post chemo weight by December. (If not all, then some.)

Step 2: I am eating healthy. I can eat raw veggies again. No more fries! No more pizza!

Step 3: Put on concealer so I won't look tired all the time. (Im really scared of the eyelash curler pulling out the remaining lashes I have.)

Step 4: Pray to the Lord that my hair grows as fast as possible. Please.

I miss you, old self. Come back soon.