Even though the chemo only really kicked in during the last day, I continue to feel it profoundly.
Looking in the mirror last night I noticed that my eyes were darker than usual, even though I've had much more sleep than usual. I haven't eaten anything in over 24 hours, a long, steady lack of appetite only briefly pierced by hunger pangs that never last long enough to address. My "dizziness" has migrated to the left primarily, and is a true nuisance. I was just speaking to Jill and she offered me a ride home if I didn't feel I could make it on my own. I must really look like hell, as no one had offered any such thing since I was nearing the end of my radiation treatment. My voice felt weak as I spoke to her. I still feel the occasional pain along my ribcage; two multi-angle chest X-rays have shown there to be nothing of concern there, but I still feel something. All I need is another cancer. Even if it's something benign, that would probably mean another operation to recover from.
I thought, given Will's immediate and intense reaction to his first cycle and my delayed reaction to my own, this would be a cakewalk. Now I can only hope to adapt, otherwise I'll have to get used to not quite being myself for a week out of every month.
Jill already made the menstruation joke.
The family's having Thanksgiving with my Aunt and Uncle and they'd like me to come along. I've been dodging them - or more specifically my Uncle - for months now. His family is kind of nosy and opinionated, and very intense, especially Uncle himself. His mere presence makes me nervous and tense. I guess it isn't right of me to hide forever. Their concern is genuine, even if what they pitch isn't necessarily what I'd like to catch. Maybe I can put in some face time and cut out early. I have to admit, my Aunt does cook a lot better than my Mom.
Probably because she follows recipes.