Cold and Lonely

I have to keep reminding myself that today is Tuesday, not Monday. It feels like Monday. But its Tuesday and all my company, planned and surprise, has gone.
Daniel came on Friday. Oh thank heavens. He was waiting patiently on the couch when we got home from my PET scan. [which was, by the way an interesting and painless experience. I was actually radioactive for a few hours and I got a card to say so in case I set off any detectors at the the border or airport or somewhere]. As soon as he was there, I felt relatively normal again. Mom and dad made themselves fairly scarce which took all of the medical related talk away. It was just me, Daniel, Sweeney Todd, and a couple parting bottles of Mike's and it was wonderful. Saturday was a bit of an adventure in my opinion as Daniel and I woke in the wee hours of the morning to search out Toledo hospital by 9 a.m. and we found it, thanks to the sometimes questionable mapquest, and after driving through a pretty shady bit of Toledo. He was the epitome of the perfect man settling my nerves in the parking garage, (*insert small shudder here*) watching me sell my soul for a shot in the hospital pharmacy, enduring the looks from the couples in the clinic waiting room, and holding my hand while the nurse put a large needle in my hip. I will never let this boy go. After that we trekked down the road for a nice jaunt at the Art Museum where we got yelled at for standing too close to the paintings (wonderful) followed by lunch at Main Street Deli (de-lish). An evening of cooking and relaxation followed.
I spared us both from the barrage of people on Sunday morning by making the decision to for-go church. An afternoon of pre-chemo recording was topped off with a super duper surprise. Oh my goodness. "You have visitors", my bum. Travis and Julie came! Whoaaaa! Holy Sunday surprise!
And thank goodness they did. Our Monday outing was such a relief. And cheesecake time after that was great as well.
But now its Tuesday and Daniel left Monday morning and Trav and Julie left this morning and its back to the same old thing. I had an appointment this morning. We found out that the lymphoma is no where else in my body, hurrah hurrah, and that next Tuesday I will start chemo. This is where I get bummed. Not only will chemo take my hair, it will take 6-7 hours. I get to sit in a chair for 6-7 hours with an IV and try to keep myself occupied. I can barely even keep myself occupied at home for that long let along in a strange place filled with needles and strange people. It is a good thing I ordered my new Zune when I did. My one thought was that I could just sleep through those 6-7 hours and then stay up all night. I need to find a good book. Or a hundred good books.

oh dear oh dear now I am back to the regular thing here at home. I hate it. I know I shouldn't say that, but it feels so true. In the mornings I nearly dread waking up just because I know whats coming. Nothing. Thats whats coming. I need to unpack. I don't want to do that. I don't want to feel like I am staying here. I need to paint, but as much as there is a part of me that wants to do that there is a part of me that feels so frustrated that I don't. If I do, i'm just going to have parents on my questioning what are you doing, what are you painting. Space, people, space. I need to be left alone and not told what to do, not questioned about little thing. If I need something, I will tell you. Some talks with brothers helped me get some of this out of my system this weekend, but now that everyone is gone, its back to the normal. Obviously I have not gotten it out of my system completely because I feel like I could go on for another few paragraphs, but I must curb my words.

Besides, I don't really have anything to paint on.
I think I will go to Findlay tomorrow. I got a coupon for Vicky's in my email today and Gina claims that underwear makes you feel better. And I still need to make some purchases before I can begin trucking on these Halloween costumes. I will put the hurting on Hobby Lobby and all will be well. For a bit. Which is really all that matters.

it would also be great if we could get the fire place a-going, but I'm being told that September is too early for that. In stead I will remain trudging around the house with my hood up and slippers on. If I am forced to dig out gloves, I will dig out the Benz-o-matic myself.

Today I realized that I have cancer.

I guess it hadn't hit me until today.

We went to Cancer Patient Services today. We talked about it like it was nothing. But there were wigs and the books that filled the shelves had the word "CANCER" running down the spine in big, bold letters. The woman told us how they would help pay for mileage and medications, how they would give me Ensure so I don't waste away. She said there were support groups that I could go to every Tuesday and that when this whole ordeal was over I could speak places if I wanted to. She gave us books, "Battling Cancer", "Living Through Cancer". She hugged me and we left like it was nothing. We left and I knew I have cancer.

It didn't get to me before now because everyone has been calling it lymphoma, Large Cell Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. What does that even mean? It means cancer. Don't mince words people, just say it. Isn't easier that way? Don't hide the word cancer under another word like you hide your tears behind your smile. Don't pretend. I know.

I realized that my hair really is going to fall out today. We went wig shopping. I sat down and tucked all my hair into a cover so I could try on wigs and I looked in the mirror and realized that in a few weeks, thats what I will look like. And when that does happen, I will have a two full heads of hair awaiting me, one red and long, one black bob. But it doesn't make me any more ready. I don't feel ready.

Will I ever be ready though? I doubt it. I don't know how to prepare myself for this. I will just take is as it comes, confident that God will be there. I have no doubts in that.

Mum actually told me it was ok to be angry with God for all of this. I laughed. Angry at God? I am not in anyway. I don't think I could be. I must have this because I am supposed to. McKinney suggested that I "may even have been purposefully composed for such a journey." I can't be angry at God for giving me what I am supposed to have. Maybe its even an honor? No, I can't think of it like that. No, no anger. None. Am I at peace with this then? I feel like I am.

Its all so much to think about. I'm tired of it. It dominates my thoughts, our talk, our lives now. I have not been home a week and already I ache to have a dinner conversation that does not revolve around sickness. Can't we talk about normal things? Have dad tell some story about what happened at the station not a story from mum about how the first hospital bill came in the mail.

2 weeks into this and i already want a break

lame, tiff, lame

I have got to find something to do. I really do.

Today wasn't so bad. Meg came and spent the afternoon with me and it was wonderful. The advantage to being home is I get to see her again. Lame that I am going to feel shitty and unable to hang out, but I know she is always there. Who knew a friendship stemmed from a homeroom full of losers would stick like it has?

This evening though, this evening, is more open than a....really open thing. I have to do something. Unpack is always my back up task, but I hate unpacking. I would rather do something else. What i don't know, because if I did I would be doing it. I want to paint. I have a vicious need to paint but I am faced with the question that has been with me since I was a wee babe: What to paint?

oh here is a good thing. I just looked up the word of the day on Merriam-Webster and this is what it said:
Popinjay - a strutting, supercilious person.

That's fantastic. Lets use it in a sentence.

Daniel is such a popinjay when he wears skinny jeans.

That was fun.

After tomorrow/this weekend, I will have something to do, hallelujah. I am going to get down to some serious costume making, and I am going to conquer my fear of the sewing machine and sewing my fingers and I am going to be like Betsy Ross minus a flag plus Sweeney Todd. And better hair. For now at least.

Oh hair. I am back to it again. I have been thinking about it all day. I saw Beyonce sing the song Halo to a little girl with wispy hair due to cancer on Ellen today and all my ok-ness with losing my hair that i developed over the past 24 hours ran away. It ran away screaming. It actually might have taken a jet pack away, I'm not sure, it all happened so quickly.
One the plus side Meg did agree to help me play with mine before it skee-daddles. We will see what I look like with black hair.....

Right, so i have nothing witty or insightful to say. That must mean my exit is near....

oh look there it is




.

the doctor and a loaf of bread

Today two things happened.



The first thing is that I had my first appointment with my oncologist, Dr. Brown. It wasn't especially exciting. We got some information, some good news and some bad news. The information is that I will be starting chemotherapy treatments soon. For the sake of those who happen to read this, I will share the bad first: I will lose my hair, I might not be able to go back to school this year. There is another piece of bad news, but my mum seems to want to keep it on the quiet side, so I will leave it out here, but will most likely share it if I talk to you in person anyways because its bothering me.



[This kind of makes me feel like I am lacking some sort of filter, something that everyone else has that tells you whether or not something is appropriate to share with someone, but I don't have it. Sometimes I get the feeling that I share too much, I'm too open about the wrong things. But I don't know if this is the case.]



On to the good news, its that if I did not have Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, I would have this other thing that would have to be cut out of my chest. The good news is that I don't have to get cut open! I really didn't want that especially since it would be an especially gruesome being cut open. The rest of the good news is that what I have is considered "very treatable" and tends to stay away once it goes away.



Here is something that is difficult now, but i am trying to see the bright side of it: since my hair is going to run away, I am getting a wig. Yes, a wig, like some old woman, but I cannot bear to have a smooth head and wear lots of scarves and hats. I don't even look good in hats when I have hair, let alone when I have no hair.The thing is that I get to pick new hair. I could have what I have now, I suppose, but I am going to have that back in a while and for the rest of m life so, I am want to do something different.



I am down to 3 colors: redder than mine (like auburn, pretty, not scary red), Light blond ( I have been craving this for a while and I am curious), or darker brown ( I don't know about this). I do want 2-tone hair though. I just need to pick a main colour.



As far as cut, I think i want something that is like Katy Perry, Kat Von D, and the girl off Ghost Whisperer....probably leaning towards Katy Perry. I read that you should get something short that way you get used to having short hair for when it starts growing back, but i do not want anything short. No way. I am going to cut my own hair short around the time of my first treatment, so when it starts running off it won't be so bad. Hopefully.



I feel like I am talking alot about my hair. I probably am, but its on my mind. I would love input on it. If anyone is reading this and they have an opinion or idea, I would love to hear it.



I nearly forgot the second thing that happened today: I baked a loaf of bread. It has cranberries and lemon glaze and I am curious to see what it tastes like. We will see later.



So that was today so far. I guarantee nothing exciting is happening tonight.
or tomorrow.
or the day after that....

Information's Sake

I'm starting this on the suggestion of my roommates. I guess so they could keep up with what is going on with me. Lynae said "I think you should start a blog" and Daniel agreed, so I pondered it on drive home last night and decided it was a good idea...

[In starting this I just realized this isn't for me and this isn't for the record. I have a personal book that I keep for me, I feel no need to actively record. This is for informing. Updating and sharing. Maybe it will become a record and maybe it will become something I do for me, but right now, informing is my main purpose. Informing and sharing.]

...So this is me starting a blog, unsure how to begin. There is nothing happening to tell about except my restlessness with being at home. I should be walking to Principles of Management right now. Instead I am bumming around in flannel [Yes, Daniel, I am wearing flannel], reading cookbooks and watching Maury. I have to quit being such a bum. But what to do....

Things I could be doing right now instead of watching people yell about babies:
Unpack [I'd rather not]
Take a shower [meh, not necessary]
Decide what we are having for supper [but nothing tastes good]
Finish the painting that I started [this is actually a good possibility]
Start a new painting [finish the other one first, Tiff]
Watch Sweeney Todd and work on costumes [I want to do this one]
Draw
Write in my book [I always want to do these two things]
Play piano [but what to play?]
Drink apple juice straight from the bottle


Well, now that I have a little more purpose in life and I feel like this is a terrible first entry, I think I will take my exit now.