Nothing is Very Terrifying

Considering how dangerous everything is, nothing is very terrifying.
-Gertrude Stein

This quote just cracked me up. I know it. I know the truth in this. How often have I watched as a doctor in a hazmat suit carries over to me a lead-lined, padlocked box, extracts from it a metal-encased syringe with the word "DANGER" written all over it, and then inject the contents of the syringe into my body? How often have I layed down on an x-ray machine and submitted myself to millions of radioactive particles as my mom and the technicians wear a suit made of lead behind a glass wall? How many times have I drank a bit of liquid that was meant to be injected because it showed more response as an oral medication as opposed to an IV one? How many times have I taken drugs that are designed to make me better but leave me feeling worse than I started?

Considering how dangerous everything is, nothing is very terrifying.

Just Another Day

I woke up after noon. I drank some tea. I read the newspaper. I ate some soup (breakfast or lunch?). I watched some TV. I finished my book. I went on the Internet. I folded laundry. I ate dinner. I began reading another book and watched more TV. I ate a cupcake for dessert. I took my chemo.
Just another day.

This really is pretty much what my days consist of. A week can go by like this and I don't even notice - especially when I'm on a chemo that makes me feel fuzzy! But the names of the days mean little to me - Monday, Tuesday, even Saturday and Sunday; they are just another day. There's freedom in this for sure. But there's also a certain amount of boredom and monotony, and in that, there is a feeling of being trapped. How weird it is to feel both absolutely free and unable to do anything at all! Day after day of nothing planned means I can do anything, and sometimes I use that to my advantage. Sometimes I'm productive. Sometimes I go make jewelry, or crochet, or work on learning something new, or go out and do things that need to be done. Sometimes I just pick up and go out somewhere, just because I can. And I love to be able to read all I want! If I could create my own perfect dream job, I'd read all I want and get paid for doing so. But other times, the sheer openness of all my days makes me lazy. Why do something productive when you have all of tomorrow to do it...and all of the day after...and all of the week after that?
The problem is, with me being on chemo and having a weak immune system, I cannot plan anything in advance. There is always the chance that I won't be feeling well at any particular time, or I might have to go into the hospital. I don't even know what my hospital schedule will be like any more than a week in advance; how can I possibly plan anything else definitively? That's why I can tell a friend I'll try my best to be at their party, but there's no guarantee; or I'll do all I can to make it to that class, but I can't promise to be there. So, my days have to have that openness to them. I can't plan things that go on continuously because the one thing I can guarantee is that I won't be able to make it all the time. This is what makes college so hard for me. I've always been that nerd who loves going to school, but now I'm not sure it's right for me anymore. That's hard to deal with, but it makes me even more glad for books and the Internet! But without the regular schedule of school, and when I can't get a job when I can't make or keep a schedule, there is no structure to my days. It often leaves me feeling like I'm stuck in transit. The word that always comes to me is "waiting". I'm always waiting for something, and I'm not even sure what exactly that could be. Waiting waiting waiting. I just hope that I recognize what it is I've been waiting for when it occurs. Until then, I sleep. I eat. I read, watch, listen, survive. And truth be told, I usually do it happily. But I know there's something else too. So I'll keep waiting.

Unexpected Deepness at a Street Fair

Yesterday I went to Princeton's annual Communiversity event, which is basically a large street fair lining the main street of Princeton, NJ, right in front of the University. The whole community tends to come out for this event, and there is music, shows, games, chalk art, vendors, and tons of food. It's a lot of fun, and the weather was so gorgeous that it made it all the better. The streets were packed, but it felt like a big camaraderie, and my mom and I had a good time walking around and sampling just about everything.
At one point, we came across a booth promoting a church, and they had a large bulletin board holding up a huge white sheet of paper. The words "I BELIEVE" were written in large print up on the top of the page, and a woman stood in front of the board holding out Sharpie markers to passersby. Scribbled on the rest of the page were comments to finish the sentence..."God is the Father Almighty", "kindness is the mortar", "Harry Potter is real!", "mermaids are people too!" The woman complimented me on my blue-streaked hair (it's a wig, but she doesn't have to know that!) and let me choose a marker - purple for me, of course. I was so excited to write something on that paper...but then I just kind of froze. How to choose what to write when there was so much I could say? I BELIEVE in love, kindness, respect, family, friendship, creativity, Mom's home cooking as comfort food, the power of a good book, the healing of words, laughter as the best medicine, the future, God's love. What was I to write on that board that would really mean something and sum it all up for me? I knew it was just a small vendor at a street fair in a small town; what did it matter? But suddenly it really mattered to me.
Then, just like that, I had it. Uncapping the marker, I took another look at the words "I BELIEVE", then wrote in purple ink, "that there is good in even the worst situations." Satisfied, I stepped back, appraised my work, capped the marker, and handed it back to the woman who had complimented my wig; then I rejoined my mother and we faded back into the crowd.

A Long Time Coming

It's been a long time since I've last made a post on here. That doesn't mean I haven't been writing, though. I write almost every night in my journal, right before falling to sleep. It's been a lot easier for me to write in the journal instead of on here just because I can have the journal next to me in bed while my computer is downstairs. But I've been wanting to get back on here. I think I'm just going to have to find some kind of compromise: either writing twice a day, once here and once in my journal, or maybe writing in my journal and later transferring things here, or perhaps starting a new blog with a different goal - with actual stories, perhaps, or something else. I'm not sure yet. I'll have to experiment a bit to find what works.
Since the last time I wrote, I've been through quite a lot, and yet almost nothing new at all. I had more online classes - 3 instead of 4 this time - and they were easier for me to handle. I've also chosen Option number 3 from a previous post and decided to continue with the Millenium oral chemo. It's been an interesting ride, definitely, but I just received the first scans since starting it, and my doctor says they are the best they've been in a long time. GOOD NEWS. It feels soooo good to get good news every once in a while! It means that I am not going through with all these crazy feelings and side effects for nothing; it means the chemo is working/doing its job and that means I am doing well. Despite the "euphoria", aka fuzziness, and despite weird joint pain I've been experiencing along with perhaps 1% of the all of the other people who have ever taken this medicine, and despite the mouth sores that sometimes make it close to impossible for me to eat anything more than soup, and despite the drop in platelet counts that sometimes lead to multiple platelet transfusions, IT IS WORKING. And that's why I go through with this. For that, and for all the people who have been here with me telling me I can get through this.