That is the truth, be that as it may

An honest description of the past several days does not make for an inspiring or even interesting message. Still, it will rest here where I can look back on it and remember through dowdy drug infested memories what it was like to watch the body fight against itself. The GVHD which rose up because we tapered the immuno-suppressants in order to have the new immune system kick some cancer ass was indiscriminate and started a fiery surge against my skin. My vanity rose up loud and proud as I watched the lines on my skin bubble and turn dry and unforgiving all over my body. I looked like I’d aged about 10 traumatic years. My hair has started to fall out and the two bald spots at the front of my head bare witness to the conflict going on inside of me. I wake up during the night and in the morning with sheets of skin having sluffed off onto the sheets and into my pajamas. I know this is gross and an unsightly image to convey but it happens and I’m going to allow myself to write it down.  If you decide to stop reading at any time, I completely understand.Yesterday was the start of chemotherapy and my nurse and friend Jana moved us into a private room where, gladly there was a bed for me to lay my sleepy, uncomfortable, vain ass down. She wanted to keep a close eye on me in case (as sometimes happens) I had a bad reaction to the treatment. I did not. I slept through the whole last half of it after a visit from my first real boyfriend in life, Buggy. He came with the same head of hair he’s had since we was seventeen in a dapper suit and clean shoes and shared a plate of fries with mom while I stuffed a toasted cheese sandwich down my throat. We talked about family and friends and when Bug left he kissed me on the lips and said if mom wasn’t there he would have asked to see my left boob. Even though he didn’t really mean it (he has a happy life with his girlfriend and a bunch of kids) those were kind words to the newly middle aged woman on the bed in the hospital hoping that not only will she recover from the latest bought of unexpected leukemia, that someday, someone will find her attractive. That is the truth, be that as it may.Today is day two of chemotherapy and then I have a month off where we hope, in the back of your minds, that this treatment is working. This morning I woke up to skin that looked more normal than in recent days past and it served as a gentle reminder that skin, the largest organ of the body, regenerates itself throughout life. At least, I’m pretty sure it does. One nice thing about feeling really down like I did yesterday morning, in anticipation of a day at the clinic, is that when you really feel a moment of hopeless despair and you breath your way through it and you don’t have that heaviness in your body and mind, it feels soooooo good to feel better.Written 5/18/2010