Cravings es no Bueno

So. Pretty much ever since the first chemo treatment I’ve had a craving for meat. MEAT. Specifically, a certain kind of meat that I don’t know the name of and can only vaguely recall. We had some excellent barbecue shortly after, though I knew going in that brisket wasn’t what was eating away at the pleasure centers of the little caveman in my brain. I also discovered that brisket wasn’t what my foggy Texas brain thought it was, somehow confusing it with shredded pork.

Lacking an excuse with more substance, I blame the cancer.
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Happy Birthday +1

Well, here I am, wide awake at 1:15 in the morning, wondering if this is a side effect of the chemo, a side effect of having to nap all through the the day, or just my regular insomnia. Maybe recapping the past day and a half will lull me into slumberland? Hmm, let’s see.
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PLEASE Stop Rocking the House!

You know, every time I start to think the chemo’s not as bad as I thought it would be, it turns around and bites me in the ass. Other than occasional waves of exhaustion, I felt pretty good yesterday. So good in fact, that I considered going in to work for a full 8 hour day. At least until 12:45 last night when…. the nausea hit.
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The Day After…

So last night I was feeling a little weak/tired, but not too bad, and I was downloading random songs that I’ve been wanting to get for awhile now. Barb wanted me to download some Aaron Copland songs for the wedding. Naturally, the geeks in the file-sharing world aren’t too keen on his music, so I found nothing. Barb decided to go on a quest for an actual CD, so I went along with her since I’m Mr. Music and I wasn’t feeling that bad.
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T Minus 11 and counting…

So today was the first chemo treatment – 1 down, 12 to go. So far, I don’t feel any major effects, other than my new port hurting a bit. It’s under bandages for now, so you’ll have to wait for the gruesome photography.

I really feel for the people who had to go through thisin the old days, however. They gave me an anti-nausea drug through the port and it’s supposed to last 72 hours. I don’t feel sick, but my belly feels… weird. I would think that if it weren’t for the drug they gave me, I’d probably be puking my lungs out. As it is, I’ll just need to get up and sit down a little slower than usual to prevent all the weird gurgles.
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The Too Much Information post. Slightly.

Sorry that I haven’t posted in a bit. It’s been a combination of drugs and not much happening.

Saturday, Joe and David stopped by to see the house and go over a plan of attack for the wedding. Joe’s going to be coordinating it for us and David’s going to be taking photos. Sunday, I basically slept all day. Monday was back to work after a stop by the bank. Not the money bank. Let’s just say we’re covering our bases on the fertility front.
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Today was a wearing sort of day. I didn’t do anything to strenuous, but I had another bad night of sleep (hey, five in a row!) and it’s pulling me down. Tonight’s a barbecue at a friend’s place, so I’m going to try to go unconscious for an hour or so.


You know, I think if there’s one thing cancer teaches you, it’s how to be humble. I wound up having to leave work today because my energy was getting lower and lower and I was getting dumber and dumber.

I think, at least so far, there are two big parts to my newfound humility to get over.
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Holy Moly….

So I arrive home today to find a little envelope from St. Francis Hospital. You know, the place I was cooped up in for five days. This wasn’t a bill, as the little paper kept reiterating in bold type. This is just letting me know how much they’re trying to shake out of my insurance company. Are you ready for it? No seriously, are you ready for it?
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