All the complaining.  Bellyaching.

Now I understand that many blog for therapy.  They just want to get it out there.  I do that too. I know I do.  But a lot of blogs just piss me off with all their first world problems.

But guess what?

This is going to be a complaining post because I have had one heck of a week.

The only positive point to this whole thing is that I don’t remember much of it.

I was mostly upright on Wednesday after chemo.  I functioned.  I was a little nauseous but I held my own.  We even made it to our favorite comic book store.  I even stopped at a bakery and got my son his favorite bread.

Thursday was worse.  I made it to PT.  I made it to acupuncture by the skin of my teeth.  I drove but I now realize I shouldn’t have been driving.  I was not safe.  I had major chemo brain.  I was in a fog.

I ate a McDonald’s cheeseburger that day.  that’s how crazy out of my mind I was.  I picked my kids up from school but then I yelled at the little one for being a sasafrass when he saw my McDonald’s cup and started bitching that I didn’t get him any.

We got home and I fell apart.  The back of my head got all swollen from the steroids I was taking.  I freaking hate steroids.  Thank goodness for icepacks and painkillers but then I fell asleep and got behind on my nausea meds…and then I was in a bit of trouble.

Friday….Friday. I slept all day.  I did not get out of bed Friday.  And people kept calling.  And for some reason, even though my mom and my husband were in the house, the boys kept waking me up trying to get me to talk to people on the freakin’ phone!

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO ANYBODY!!!!  LEAVE ME ALONE!!”

Great mom moment, eh?

Saturday, I was mopey…and still nauseous.  “Leave me alone.” I whispered quietly, “Just leave me alone.”

Sunday I felt better but then I cried all day because I realized how awful the past few days had been.  my memory of them is mostly blurry, muddled, miserable.

Monday was better but now I began to feel fear.  I have to do this all over again in a week.

I called the oncology nurse and complained about my nausea which she assured me would dissipate soon.  “Suck on hard candy.” she suggested.  I asked her how people do this.  How they drag themselves back in for another treatment.  She said they just do it.

I will do it.  But man!  This is really, really hard.

Apparently the first few days I speak nonsense and insult my family members arbitrarily.  I have no recollection of this.  Apparently, my sparkling personality turns a bit dark on chemo brain.

At one point, my husband was trying to get me to watch this movie with him.  I kept saying  “I DO NOT WANT TO WATCH THAT MOVIE!!!!”.  repeatedly.  And he wouldn’t listen!  And he kept insisting we watch it and I was getting more and more frustrated and teary and panicy.  Why was he going to make me watch a movie I hate?  Why did he want to torture me?

He backed away when I really started bawling.  He looked confused.

It turns out that while I thought I was saying, “I do not want to watch that movie.”  I was actually saying, “I want to watch that movie with you!!!”

Uh…yeah.  That is just screwy.

So of course husband was perplexed at my vehement reaction to him turning on that movie especially since I was insisting I wanted to watch it with him!

What can I say, my brain is sensitive…and my husband?  The man is a saint.  A freakin’ saint!  He is the glue holding us all together.  Someone needs to give that guy a million bucks.  Thank God for him.  Seriously.

What happened is not too unusual.  I used to do that kind of stuff when I was a kid in my sleep.  One time, I walked into the pantry and pulled out a box of pretzels and walked into my brother’s room.  I remember him asking me why I was holding pretzels at 9:30 at night.  I insisted I was not holding pretzels.  My parent found me huddled on the floor cradling the box in my arms all the while insisting I had NO PRETZELS!!

I am weird.

This has been a tough week.  Today was better.  Now my scalp is itching and when i itch it, a few hairs come out.  I still have a full head of hair but it will be gone soon.  The oncologist predicted day 15 from the first chemo.

I hope this mean the chemo is working.

Itch. Itch. Itch.

My hair, whatever, I am ready to buzz it.  I am so over it.  And I am sad.  But I will survive to fight another day.  I’m already wearing headscarves.  I tell people I’m pretending to be bald.

What are they going to say about it?

Three more rounds of AC chemo.  I hope I keep my head.