Whole New World, Part Ten

[rolanni]

When last we saw Our Humble Narrator, she had finished her last ray gun therapy session, collected her diploma, rang the bell with a will (eliciting applause, catcalls, and shouts of "congratulations" from those foregathered), and was driven home by her partner, by way of Bucksport, Searsport, Belfast, and China, arriving in Good Time at Gifford's, where milkshakes were taken on, and so to home, where said narrator finished drinking her milkshake and had a nap.

Begin TMI
The Official Word is that I will now "rest;" never an easy state for me, this time made a little more difficult by the burns, which are still coming into their fullness, and, yeah, they hurt.  I am, according to Dr. Ray Gun, not to "baby" the burns, to continue with the range-of-motion exercises, and also continue to apply the recommended creams.  I may take analgesics as I feel the need for them.

I am lower on energy than at any point since this particular adventure began, my memory is not reliable, and I have acquired a deplorable tendency to weep, which is, I suppose, better than throwing knives, or breaking dishes, but much less spiritually fulfilling.  I expect that the the reality of what's happened is finally catching up with me, now that I may "rest," and have no need to focus on holding it together for the trip to the Cancer Center, the ray gun treatment, and the drive home.

I have an appointment at the Cancer Center next Friday, with the Survivalism Doctor, which, despite my persistent mental picture, is not about taking off our shirts, strapping on our hunting knives, and descending, sans bug repellent, into the marshland surrounding the hospital to bring down and skin a deer.  I will be speaking with this doctor about my concerns regarding the drugs they propose to put me on for the rest of my life, so that will be fun.
End TMI

So, anyway, Patience and Waiting Are, as I try to find the balance between "resting" and being horrified that I've gotten nothing, not one thing, done -- which is not a problem today, as I've written this blog post.

Everybody stay healthy.  Everybody stay safe.

Comments

[reedrover]

You are taking care of yourself and healing, both of which are Doing Something. Rest your heart and celebrate your body.

Congratulations on your continued survival.

[theowlunderground]

Having survived my first round of chemo for lymphoma in what proved to be the worst six months of my life, I quite agree: Fuck cancer. I'm wearing the new pink dare teeshirt in solidarity. Hang in there, lady. We're all rooting for you.

[rolanni]

I remind myself every day how very very lucky I am to have been given a pass on chemo.

[alicebentley]

Thank you for posting - I really enjoy hearing about your experiences, even the ones that are no fun at all. Best wishes for resting productively. (Not sure how to say that resting is the productive thing you're doing right now - but that's what I mean.)

You are a champion

[ireneha]

I believe I once heard Connie Willis discuss a long and sad period of her life thus: "Someday I will use this in a book."

So if it was, or wasn't Connie.... This whole experience can be used in many ways in a book. Use it well.