I’m just so…

Tired. Mad. Why me? Why am I upset about this tonight? Once in awhile, I dare to ask the question, “Why me?” and then it’s all downhill. I spoke to a bunch of friends (new and old) at mass tonight, and they all said, “We love your new hair! It looks real!” Yeah, I got my wig. It’s kind of cute, actually. I mean, I’m not brilliantly beautiful in it, but hey, it looks like hair, and people have stopped staring. I don’t get the awkward question, “Is there a reason for your haircut, or are you being alternative?” I hate that word, alternative. Is that code for lesbian? I’m NOT ok with lesbian code, people. Cancer is hard. I never use italics, so I am now. (Or as Steve Jobs says, ‘oblique’ or whatever. Arseface. Just because you took a typography class 20 years ago doesn’t mean you can just randomly assign the term ‘italic’ a different one to confuse me. You and your ugly sans-serif fonts make my eyes burn at four am.)

Ok, back to the problem at hand. I’m effing depressed, have a fever, my head is breaking out, and what the hell, hair? Enjoying a late-night beer with my friend RobbieMy friend, Anna, who has this at the same time (well, ok, I know her dad), has lost most of her hair by now, and she got it AFTER me. I thought I’d be sporting some sort of shiny baldness by now. But noooo, I have a permanent 5 o’clock shadow. It’s growing a lot slower, in some areas not at all, some other areas where it stopped growing it started again… I’m patchy like a leopard’s spots. I’ve been sporting the stubble hair as well, as you can see in the second picture. I quite like myself with no hair sometimes, if the stubble was freaking evenWhee. But, it never is. Most of you don’t understand how awesome my hair was when I still HAD hair. Here’s kind of an old picture, but at least you can see how it used to look. I think I took that the last time I went back to England to see my family, so end of 2006/beginning of 2007.

Having hair is helping me cope. If I have something covering my head, I feel a tad more normal. Chemo makes me hurt everywhere. I’m taking steroids to shrink the tumor and the prednisone is making my face round, but I can’t eat half the time. I had an odd assortment of mac n cheese, salad, a chocolate/peanut butter cookie after mass, some cottage cheese, and half a beer, and now I’m going to vomit. I can’t, though. I just took some more meds, and I need to keep them down as long as possible.

My fever is at 100 now. I’m usually 96.3, so being up towards 100 is like a normal 98.6 person being at 102ish. I’m miserable. My ear hurts, and its giving me a headache, and I’m getting effing cranky, and no amount of Hail Marys are going to make me any better. I think I said 2 1/2 rosaries today just to take my mind off the hurt. Sean came over for a bit to play video games with me to give Stephanie some time to do homework, but they hardly took my mind off of things.

This was supposed to be an insightful post, but instead, I’m going to go be vomitatious and end this early. I just can’t handle the side effects right now. Man, I feel like shit. Cancer is the disease where no one can see it. Makes me want leprosy sometimes just so people can be like, “Leprosy? Yeah, I see your nose falling off there.” They can’t be like, “Yeah, I see that tumor against your lung. That’s bad news.” Maybe I could get a viewing pane installed so they don’t have to do PET scans. Bleh PET scans. They make you glow in the dark, I swear. The good thing about this post was that you all get to see my pretty hair 🙂 I’m so narcissistic. Not anymore. My sister wrote me a note that says, “Kristin is Beautiful” and stuck it to the bottom of my iMac so I’d see it everytime I sat down. It’s almost like a mantra when I get dressed in the mornings. “You’re pretty, you’re pretty, just keep telling yourself that, no one’s staring at your mouth sores, or your bald head, or your broken out skin, or the weird combination of weight gain/loss…” It’s hard. I hate chemo so much. I hate it, but I’m supposed to love it. I can’t love it. It just sucks so bad each time. They want to do LP chemo, which I’m NOT okay with. I think we’ll have to talk about that long and hard. I don’t want shit injected into my spinal cord. Why would they need to do that?

Hmph. I’m going to go toss my cookies, then cry a bit, then try to sleep. Oh, did I mention how chemo keeps you awake sometimes so you’re so tired you want to sleep, but you can’t? Yeah, lovely.

Anyone know how to get rid of a fever without the use of Tylenol?


Home for Easter

Well, I left Corvallis at the buttcrack of dawn with Ashley on Good Friday… around 3:30. We got to Portland Int’l around 5:15, and my flight was supposed to leave at 6:15. Sooo, apparently everyone and their mum wanted to leave Oregon at that time. OMFG were there so many people at the airport. Ashley had already left by then, so I was on my own inside. I got through the line at Alaska Air to check my massive bag of luggage (dunno why I had my big one… I think it’s because I brought it home for xmas, then never put it back on the top shelf because of my bad shoulder, so it just stayed in the empty room, half packed, until I found it Thursday night).  Goodness.  I played the cancer card going through security.  I had about 30 mins until my plane took off, and thought, “Crap, I’m not going to make it,” because the line was 60 miles long.  Seriously.  So I got up to the guy at security and said, “I have cancer and I can’t stand up all that long. Can I go through the express line?”  He gave me the sad look and said, “Sure, sweetie. Just cut on through.”  Dude, then I saw the family from the TLC show “Little People, Big World.”  They looked sweet, but really tired, so I didn’t want to bother them.  It was crazy in the airport, and super early.  But, I turned to the dad finally and said, “IwatchyourshowallthetimeandIthinkyou’reawesome.”  Yeah, it was like that.  I just kind of blurted it out, like verbal diarrhea.  *shrugs*  I got on the plane ten mins after that, boarded, and sat near NO ONE (my row was empty, until some business guy came to sit next to me).   So yeah, that was it.  I got a free huge bottle of water, which was great too (one of those 2 liters).  I slept most of the flight – it wasn’t exciting.

Easter was a nice affair.  Vigil was long (it gets longer every year, I swear), and I got to sing Jesus Christ is Risen Today (my favourite song in the whole entire world!).  I saw a bunch of people from school when I was a kid, including one unmentionable family.  They thought I was alternative with my haircut, but they knew why, so they just gave me pitying looks and said they were praying for me.  I pretty much wanted to say, “You should be praying for your son, because he’s a jerkface,” but didn’t.

Mum cooked an amazing meal (as always), and all the people there kept asking me about my cancer.  They’re like, “Cancer is bad, tell me all about it,” and I’m like, “Nah, that’s okay, I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Dunno what else has been going on.  I went wig shopping today (hooray) and found a cute, shaggy long hair one.  It’s my actual hair colour, so about a level 3-4 if you know your levels when you get your hair dyed.  I’m going to make an appt to get my wig trimmed when I get home.  So, at least I’ll have hair.  It was nice there, with chairs for me to sit in, and the lady would look at my face and bring them over for me to try on.  She kept saying how brave I was, and then asked if my insurance would cover it.  Of COURSE not.  Providence sucks.  They won’t cover crap.  I’m paying for half of it (but mum and dad don’t know that – I’m pulling money from my trust fund so they have money to retire with.)  I’m just excited to have hair!! 😀  It only cost me… $375 for the synthetic wig, plus $45 for shampoo, conditioner, and a special brush so I don’t demolish it.  It’ll last for awhile until it starts to rub against my backpack and my shoulders.  Then it’ll fray and break off, so I’ll just have to be careful.  🙂  Sorry, Sean.  That means you can’t wear it while running around the house.

I think we’re having spaghetti for dinner tonight, so I better go help mum before she’s like, “Kristin, you never do anything around here, wah wah wah.”  I’d probably answer with, “I’m a guest!”  *snorts*  Never works.