Learning Curve - Keeping it Real 

Oh, the things you learn along the way. The things you didn't think to expect, or the things you hoped you wouldn't have to deal with. 

It's not that I shouldn't have been prepared for it. After all, I have a whole bunch of information on chemo, what it is, side effects, etc. It's just that I focused on the obvious ones - nausea, loss of hair, mucositis, weakness... you know, what you think of when you think of chemo. 

Then there's the let's-not-really-get-into-all-the-info attitude to avoid a case of hypochondria, to which I am not prone, but still. And then there's all the other stuff that isn't even listed, because it's not a side effect but more of a consequence of spending time in a hospital. 

Raise your hand if you know that I love food. Ok. I LOOOOOOOOVE food is more accurate. Well, finding out that chemo messes with your taste buds is adding insult to injury. There's loss of appetite, but no surprise there because everything tastes bitter and metallic. It sucks. 

I also need to wash my hair. At this point of my stay, you can probably figure out how many days have passed by the look of it. A short cut is in order, because this is not sustainable. 

I had an issue with my PICC line - a clot, so they removed it and hooked me up to two IV ports on my left arm instead. The right hurts, the left can't move that much. Friends, when you have limited use of your arms many things come into play: you start hoping you are ambidextrous, you try to figure out how to brush your teeth and eat with the wrong hand, you wish for a fairy godmother to come and tie your hair for you, and you pray to all the angels and saints that you can at least wipe your own butt. 

I am told I may get unplugged today at some point, and I have already warned everyone who will listen that I am making a run for the shower, washing my hair, and recovering some semblance of self before they try to hook me up to anything else.

Other than that, I'm peachy! 

Indignities aside, I remain grateful for every blessing that surrounds me. And the occasional Brahm's Lullaby that plays every time a baby is born is a moment for rejoicing in the miracle of life. 

As I told a dear friend of mine earlier today, I have all of you, so I can have this.