Day +42 Missing the Mary Jane

Well, I feel like shit today. I'm off the Nabilone (marijuana derivative to
help with nausea) and my steroid dosage was dropped again. I feel like a
heroin addict coming down off a high. I'm really shaky, and my body can't
figure out whether to sweat profusely or shake in uncontrollable chills. I've
found that the only place I feel comfortable is in the shower lying in the
bath and letting the water hit me from above.

The appetite is down as well. My mom says I should not worry because I'm
starting to eat like a normal, inactive person. I did have some fresh
tomatoes with dinner today, but I had to wash them with dish soap to clean
the skin. I've never washed produce with dish soap before and I am positive
that the lemon fresh scent of Sunlight does not mix well with Sun dried
Tomato and Oregano salad dressing.

Another negative part of today was that Caity discovered that I'm not
actually growing hair. The stubble that I had on my head has started to
fall out with light rubbing so it looks like I'll be bald for a while. I
know I haven't expressed much of a concern for my hair, but it really is one
of the most visual signs that I'm sick. The only other part of me that I
hate to look at is the central line, but I've gotten used to that, and I
know that it'll be gone in a month. It's the hair that's bugging me, but
I've found that shampooing with a anti-dandruff shampoo helps a bit wit23 h the
humour aspect.

Today I'm done with feeling bad. I want it to end. I'm not having the fun
I used to and I'm finding that it's harder to smile and joke about what's
happening. I don't have the energy to take care of my own kids and I'm
tired of being tired. Sorry for the sourness of this entry, but today is
not a happy day, so this is what you get. If it weren't for the fact that
it was Christmas, I might consider going back to the hospital and sleeping
there. I have this worried feeling that something is not right, and I'm
just sitting here at home oblivious to the fact that I'm slowly dying and
the doctors at the Tom Baker could be doing something right now if I was
there.

Anyway, sorry again for the entry, but if I'm going to write about the good
times, I've got to write about the bad times. I think that I'm going to
give back the book Maureen (the shrink) gave me. The guy who wrote it
climbed Everest, then got Acute Myeloid Leukemia. That's one level higher
than I got, but the guy writes like every day was glorious. His wife cooked
all of his meals and spend 14 hours a day at the hospital. He also rode the
stationary bike at Unit 57 for hours and reading the book generally made me
feel like shit. I basically just lay there and typed in the hospital and
here is this guy riding and energetic, and happy. I don't want to be a
bastard here but after reading the first 50 pages about how positive and
happy and strong this guy is I want in my heart to yell out a huge "FUCK
YOU" for making me feel like a second class cancer patient. I guess I'll
come back to the book in a while, but it was not doing much for my morale.
He is a very good writer though, and his wife wrote every second chapter so
I guess that's a slight fuck you to Caity and her ever looming and still
unpresent journal entry. Well, we do have twins and mountain boy just had
his wife, and I would never, ever, question Caity's dedication to her kids
and me. She is beyond any criticism, comment, or complaint in my eyes and I
would take her over any home cooked 14 hour day hospital visiting super
wife.

That's about as much negative energy as I'm willing to vent in one sitting so
I'm going to bed. I've been there most of the day, but it's time to take
the medications and hit the sack. I'm really fighting the urge to take a
Nabilone, but I will also never allow myself to bend to a craving.

Now that's a joke!!!!

Goodnight, and thanks. I feel a bit better getting that off my chest