Lay on, Macduff

And damned be him who first cries "Hold, enough!"


Well, I just had chemo #4, which is my last AC treatment. I'm told that Taxol is "easier" in terms of side effex. Instead of nausea, you get pain. I AM DOWN FOR THAT. woo hoo. pain! I can hardly wait.

(madonna, at right, demonstrates why crucifixion, although painful, is perennially fashionable)




So I have one more week of quease. I'm halfway through chemo. I should have a belt with notches in it. Then I can kick back in bars and describe each notch in such harrowing ways as to make bouncers barf. I would love to make bouncers barf. Speaking of which, I usually see only old people at my sessions, but last time, I saw a guy who couldn't have been more than 25. He looked like he was in awesome shape, sort of a middleweight boxer's build. Bald of course, but hard to tell if the baldness was bouncer/tough guy-chic or chemo. Anyway, I felt bad. Getting cancer is bad enough when you're old, but when you're young, it really sux.

At any rate (or no rate at all) I ran 3 miles this morning. If i let myself think back to when 3 miles was not a big deal, I get kinda depressed, because 3 miles now is really hard. I'm huffing by the end of it.

*by the way, apologies to all and sundry for the above mixed metaphor stew. chemo takes its toll on the cognitive abilities. I believe I may, in fact, be drooling.