Contents
So that was a day in the life of the chemo recovery part of the cycle.
Cancer affects your night life too.
This Was Your Nightlife Before Chemo.
No seriously, I used to live in Vegas. If you are bored easily by gambling, don’t care much for hoes and have seen all the shows there are restaurants and clubs and views it can suck after the first three months.
But I was also working 20 hours a day which I did my first two years living in Vegas, and frequently treated to luxury suites in the hotel of various conferences by clients. Yeah, still work-cation… but the views though!
Anyway….
This Is Your Nightlife on Cancer.
First? You no longer have one. Just fucking forget going out at night.
FORGET IT OKAY. Maybe you can go out late afternoon or brunch-ish. If the place isn’t crowded – since you have to avoid crowds when you can’t fight infection. And there’s someone to bring you back or Uber money because sudden exhaustion.
But sometimes you can go out during the day. Oh. And SPF 45 cajillion. Don’t forget that because you’re at risk for secondary— listen just stay inside.
You’ll be too tired.
Too tired to think about it or remember all that stuff or remember where you wrote down all that stuff to even.
Or too tired to get dressed
or your legs/eyes don’t work as well as they did in the morning
or your hip bones hurt – did you know your bones can hurt? –
or too depressed.
Or to nothing because you’re staring into space because that is a thing you do now, perfectly content to just be but not elated or anything.
(You’ve seen this before if you’ve been around anyone convalescing.)
Your night life
– if you want to call it that? Awww. Sweetie… –
is being too worried to sleep.
Or figuring out a comfortable position to sleep.
Or the internet because stop kidding yourself, you cannot fucking sleep.
And you’re too fucking *NAME SOMETHING HERE LITERALLY ANYTHING THAT WOULD STOP YOU FROM EVEN-ING* to do anything that any person on any parallel or future version of earth would even jokingly refer to as productive.
So yeah. Cancer is fuuuuun.
(Which stands for “fuck you, nancy.” But only when we’re talking about cancer. Come on, laugh. I am completely held together by your support and the sound of our laughter. Don’t make me guilt trip you. I have a Nigerian mother AND grandmother. You Will not win.)
I submit as proof the flip side of that cancer day.
4:30. After giving an ETA on the project, realize that as usual I have done about 30% more than was needed. But this is a regular buyer who knows what I’m struggling with and lets me know my deadline was self-imposed.
6 pm. Resist temptation to power through work anyway because this reputation management case is so fascinating. Then decide if it’s not actually due I should give my very best rather the best quality of work that can be achieved with any speed.
7:30ish. Go hang with family. Nightly meeting with Mom and one of my sisters to discuss my health has become regular.
I complain or list.
They reassure and suggest.
They soothe.
I wonder … why has God blessed me with such a loving family? And try to hide the couple of gratitude tears that fall.
Yeah I’ve always been this much of a pansy if you’re wondering.
8ish. Watch that one ratchet show with my sister.
Okay three. We watch three rachet shows. OKAY ALMOST ALL THE SHOWS WE WATCH IS RACHET AS HELL, YOU HAPPY?
Try to find a comfortable position. Fail as usual.
But it’s not as bad as the time three days ago when the only position that wasn’t agony on my stomach or back was half on my side with my legs twisted over my head kinda like this cat.
10ish. I love when me & my sister get tired at the same time. With all she does I want to spend every minute I can in her company.
We can be there for each other to vent to and honestly she makes me laugh every day, belly aching laughter.
I now get what was going on with my Mom and her sisters when I was a kid, why they were always so happy to see each other. Even if the last time they saw each other was yesterday or this morning before work.
12am. Of course.
I am not.
Asleep.
If it’s not the constant peeing it’s the pain. If it’s not the pain it’s anxiety. If it’s not anxiety, well it’s time to get up now, isn’t it?
2am. Sitting awake in the darkness with everything off is Officially Bullshit.
I’m not hungry but I consider my mother’s favorite sleep remedy -eating.
I reject it, even junk food isn’t tempting me & I don’t want to get back in that habit.
Aw shit I didn’t eat tonight. Fuck me.
Should I get up? I don’t want to get up.
Should I get up? Fuck I should get up.
I don’t need to get up. But online I read about that one guy out of ten million lifetimes worth of people who didn’t get up.
Fuck. Now I have to get up.
2:15am. Certain films make me sleepy even though I like them.
Hero with Jet Li soothes me to sleep if I’m tired. Something about the music & the sound of the swords.
I love the Futurama movie “Bender’s Big score” but have never seen it all in one sitting because I always fall asleep. It took me three settings to watch all of Shrek 3.
I ponder, then opt for Futurama.
3:44am. Bender’s Big Score is actually a good movie if you’re awake for it.
4:15am I watch Shrek 3.
For years I thought it started on a Pirate ship. Okay this time, before I go to sleep I’m going to figure out what happened in what I’m assuming was a minute before they get on a Pirate ship.
4:17 I’m glad I decided to hit resume and then rewind to the beginning instead of selecting play from start. Daaaaaaamn I was asleep for like half of this movie and awake for the same 45 seconds.
4:45amish. Is the last time I remember being awake. Thank goodness.
So that’s a typical day when something is wrong. There’s another typical type where almost nothing is wrong. Then there’s the day when my legs were stuck over my head.