06-30-2020
I needed to take some time off from my blog, so if you are wondering, I decided to take care of myself, be a bit selfish and only get done what was needed in the moment. In doing so, I had my next to last chemo treatment today.
Tired
I have a friend in Utah, Sara, that was also diagnosed with breast cancer and we had surgery a day apart. Her chemo routine is different than mine, but many of the same side effects and maladies are shared.
We chatted last night via messaging and shared how weird it is to have cancer and how we would not even know without the tests like mammograms, but the treatment feels like it’s trying to kill you at times.
Tired of the whining
They put poison into mine and the bodies of cancer victims to kill the cancer cells and that is what makes us sick, and it’s hard to explain that it’s not the cancer, it’s the “cure,” that makes anyone getting treatment feel like crap and gives us fatigue that is unlike any tired I’ve ever felt, there are GI issues, it causes our hair to fall out, makes bones ache, fingers and toes numb, makes lots of food taste like crap, can effect your heart and lungs, causes people to vomit and not be able to eat for the fear of barfing, it makes the brain forgetful, and so much more. This is hard, this is reality, and no one in their right mind would choose to go through this if there wasn’t hope to save their life.
That is why I’m so sick of people whining about wearing a damn mask.
Poor babies, you have to be inconvenienced to protect others, all the while there are those of us that are trying to save our very lives by allowing chemicals into our bodies that give us harsh side effects and render us semi-useless for days after the treatment, so, screw you if you are whining about wearing a mask in public to not only protect yourself, but the likes of my friend and me and millions of others that have underlying health issues and compromised immune systems, including the doctors and nurses that are risking their lives treating the millions that have come through the medical system for Covid19 and so much more.
And those medical people still have to go home to their families, or they isolate unnecessarily because they won’t risk their families health if they work directly with Covid19 patients. Putting this sector of our health care system at risk so you can drink a beer at a bar or go to a party, is one of the most selfish life-choices I can image, and you don’t bother to look past your own puffed-up ego because you think you are taking a stand for your “rights.”
I call bs because that behavior serves no one but you, and risks so many more and, in the long run, might include yourself.
Screw you because I haven’t been able to leave the house since my diagnosis and Covid19 collided in March, and my world has been reduced to going to doctors and treatments because I fear your mask-less face might come near me and I don’t know where the hell you have been, or what you might have been exposed to and I and millions more can’t risk it.
Screw you for being selfish and feeling so privileged and inconvenienced by having to wear a 3 X 5 inch mask on your face to protect others, because it’s “Hot, or looks weird, messes up your makeup or feels funny,” and on and on with the childish droll of whining about your rights, and selfishly ignoring the rights of other Americans that are trying to get past this virus so we can all get back to our lives.
Screw you and your selfish behavior, and self-centered dribble and if you end up in the hospital with the disease, will you then refuse a mask? How about an oxygen mask, a respirator or a nebulizer? Those are all uncomfortable and inconvenient, for the patient and the many caretakers that have to monitor those machines, day in and out to help save the lives of those that refused to wear a mask in public and are now sick.
Nurses and doctors will not discriminate, so you are lucky if you end up in the hospital with Covid19, because they will still care for you and all of those that follow because you decided to throw a fit and risk the lives of others so you can go to a bar, party it up and, yes, even go to church without precautions (which seems even worse to me). You are lucky to live in the U.S. because you will still be treated if you need it, you will have doctors and nurses risking their lives to save yours, and guess what? They will all be wearing masks.
You are behaving like a 3 year old, and that’s an insult to 3-year-olds, so grow up, suck it up and wear the damn mask with pride, as an American, fighting for fellow Americans and potentially, you could very well be saving someone’s life in doing so, including your own. That is the American way.
Tired of being tired
New meds for my belly, were prescribed after expressing that the pain, along with living in the bathroom that was causing me sleep issues and more. Ellie gave me a stronger prescription for my gut and that seems to offer better relief and more sleep. After a week with the new meds, there have been no cramps and that is such an amazing relief. I wish I had insisted earlier, but with only one chemo treatment left, I’m happy for any relief and hopefully that part will calm down.
Being Grateful
Practicing to be grateful is a double edged sword. On the one hand, I am grateful and appreciative of Mike, Tiff, friends, family and the doctors and nurses that have helped me with my breast cancer treatment. I make an effort, most times, to be humble for those gifts in my life and trustful toward people, at large , but that also leaves me open to hurt; expecting the best of people and ever surprised to discover that there are people that will take advantage if allowed. It’s a means of living that can take a lot of energy, and awareness of others, and that is exhausting in this time of an illness with a pandemic, but I’m still trying.
I’m already edgy and feel vulnerable to an illness that I can’t see, have no idea if all this treatment is working or not (90% chance that it is), because there is really no way to know unless a tumor comes back and that could take years. How is a “cure” in the prognosis if you can’t test to see that the problem is gone or spread? There doesn’t seem to be any logic in that, but maybe that is the doctor-speak that people need to hear?
My chances are good to be alive in 5 years, and I’d take that bet if I was gambling, and hedge that bet with my diet, exercise and as positive of an outlook as I can, but then I have to deal with those that won’t wear masks and it becomes gloomy in my mind to know that all my hopes for San Diego being a model for how to minimize the virus numbers has fallen apart and the numbers are going up again.
We were doing so well here, and I really thought we would be the cool city that could deal with a bit of inconvenience, and now my heart is broken because going to a bar, the beach, a party, or church was more important than the the health of the rest—the majority of San Diego who wore the masks, stayed home as much as possible, and washed their hands to protect all of us—and for what?
To get the virus, spread the virus, and maybe have someone you know end up in ICU or dead, including your own ass? That’s the “what,” to say no one stepped on your personal liberty while you crushed the liberties of others with the toss of a mask? Is that the what?
So, my “bleeding heart,” my “Pollyanna,” ways leave me sad, disappointed and even hopeless with the news of the day saying that we could now have 100,000 new cases of Covid19 a day in the United States with the way the numbers are rising after the likes of Memorial Day, beaches opening, political rallies, government denial and more.
In addition, I was personally, and deeply disappointed that the televised open wheel racing over the past few weeks has been showing the drivers, crews and fans not adhering to the CDC guidelines in those areas where the states have loosened the social distancing rules. From Indiana to PA open wheel racing will now have everyone watching to see how those Covid numbers are in a few weeks where those big gathering have been taking place, day after day.
No one, not the crews, not the tv personalities, not the kids of the drivers, nor the fans wore masks and I’m incredibly disappointed. Like my hopes for San Diego, I was hoping for open wheel racing to be the leaders of ensuring they were not a part of the spread of the virus along with trusting the science, while still being able to race, but adhering to the CDC guidelines, yet, sadly, they didn’t even try.
Well, I take that back, Terry McCarl put on a race with the the help of the Governor of South Dakota and did adhere to the CDC guidelines and still was able to hold a race, so he is my hero in the open wheel racing world as an example of how it can be done.
Terry McCarl and NASCAR, I really should say, and I’m not a hard core NASCAR fan, but a casual watcher and they did it right, without fans, or limited fans, with masks on every person, from the grandstands to the pits, and they are having regular racing now because they did it right. I never would have thought they would be the ones to take the lead on this and now they have a more dedicated fan in me. See how that works? Do what’s right and benefit.
Then NASCAR took it one step further and confidently stepped up to ride the “I can’t breathe,” movement train, along with outlawing Confederate flags from their events, have made some of the most sensitive statements about the current issues of race divisions, and then the drivers and crews walked with “Bubba”, Darrell, Wallace, at Pocono Speedway, (the only African American NASCAR driver), after a noose was found hanging in his garage.
Prior to the race, Bubba walked with his car to the starting line and nearly every driver and crew member walked in solidarity with a man that was feeling the personal hate of bigoted people that day, even though he was only told about the noose, and didn’t actually see it, he felt that noose tighten around his personal liberties and the freedom to live without fear.
The FBI was brought in since it looked to be a potential hate crime and it was discovered, via video surveillance, that the noose had been there for at least a year, and that Bubba Wallace was randomly assigned the garage for the race event, so it wasn’t targeted toward him specially, but even more sadly it symbolizes a hate that travels even more broadly.
Wearing Black Lives Matter shirts, and an American flag face mask has brought Wallace to the forefront of his racing community, and he has become the voice and linchpin that has added some stability to the stock car racing community—an unexpected sport and one which was born in the South and still has deep roots to things from an era that should never be forgotten, instead, it should be nothing but tragic history at this point in time, and not something to be revered. NASCAR took some steps to prune some of those roots, and support diversity within the ranks and Bubba’s fellow drivers stood together with him.
My heart aches that it wasn’t the open wheel world to lead the charge, however, the hole it created in my heart can now be filled with my never-would-have-thought NASCAR admiration and I’m grateful that an auto racing sport has taken the lead of sending the message about Covid19 safety and the need for diversity and love for fellow Americans of all colors. Thank you.
I’m also grateful for just one more week of chemo! Speaking of chemo, I asked about the effects of the two other drugs once the Chemo stops and relief appears to be in sight from the side effects with most people having minor discomforts with headaches and some diarrhea, but Ellie said no one has had big issues with either, saying, of course, “Everyone is different,” which I do understand.
I’m still tired, but grateful to be nearing the end of the most difficult part of this treatment. I’ll be setting up the radiation consult soon, but will have 3-4 weeks off before all of that starts, so maybe some normalcy for a few weeks where I don’t have to go as often to the treatment center.
I am working to be grateful with a full heart and hope people will change their behavior and be proud to wear a mask to support their fellow Americans.