Let's take a walk on the treadmill.

Yes, let's take a walk.

There's no crying in cancer.

We know that I do not cry. Well, let me rephrase that; I don't cry about cancer. Except maybe twice. Like a real cry.  I do get the sniffles every now and then.  Now, put an episode of "Friday Night Lights" on, and I'll cry at least 5 times before it's over. Don't judge. Amazing show. Oh, Tim Riggins.......  Show an ASPCA commercial and I melt, well everybody does, as everybody should, and if you don't, check yourself.

You can throw anything cancer related at me and I won't cry.

• Telling someone I have cancer for the first time. I won't cry.
• Revealing my whole 'cancer story'. I won't cry. It's actual quite comical. I usually laugh.
• Being told I have to go on chemo, again, again and again. I won't cry.
• Getting a port. I won't cry.
• Getting pet scan results back with new spots of activity. I won't cry.

But I will cry when I feel miserable for more than a day. Like I have felt for the past 3 days. My body aches, my head throbs, I feel fatigued.  Blaaaaaahhhhhh!  My hemoglobin must be really low.  Maybe I'll go walk on the treadmill.
When I feel like this, it is extremely overwhelming to even think about the next day or to make plans for the next week.  Well, thinking about the future on a daily basis is absolutely terrifying, which is why I don't do it.  So why would I want to do it when I feel so tragic? That was dramatic.

So let's cry about it. Or not.

Flying Ants!

I am soooo way more tired than you right now, yet I can't fall asleep.  I am functioning at the level of zombie.  My hemoglobin is really low, which means I get tired very easily and any physical activity like walking up and down stairs, is a tragedy.  But my sister is really understanding. Like when she came with me to Toxin Tuesday this week and I had to take a break after walking up the parking garage steps and she said, "Maybe you should try walking on the treadmill everyday or something." Yes, I should.  Would you like to scrape my body off the treadmill belt (thump, thump, thump) when I'm done?

So it is always an adventure when my sister and I are together, obviously.  We get to the treatment center and find a cozy recliner, only to find out we shouldn't put our bags on the floor.  Ew! What?!? There is an ant infestation, but the exterminator is on his way. Shhhh.  Ok, this is weird.  Well, I don't see any ants on the floor......oh wait, yes I do. Are those dead flying ants? Yikes! We are being attacked by flying ants. Oh no! The gentlemen in the next chemo pod found one on his shoulder!  Where is the exterminator? Oh, he's not coming, the environmental guy from the hospital needs to come take a look around.  He must know something about flying ants that we don't.  Hmm, yes he definitely looks like he knows more about ants than I do. Now they want to fit 12 chemo patients, already hooked up to IVs, to a room that can only hold 4 patients.  It would be like watching "The Invasion of the Body Snatchers", all these bald chemo patients rolling their own travel IV bags emerging from chemo pods instead of pea pods, oh, as the fat asian environmental guy swats at flying ants in the background.

Getting treatment with dead flying ants surrounding you somehow does not seem sterile........

Cheeyas!

Let's all give cancer a big FUCK YOU! It's been 3 years and a day since I received the greatest gift from God.

BAHAHAHA......just kidding, that's what older cancer 'survivors' say who hope, endure and pray. You know the ones I'm talking about, they wear pink ribbons.

Sorry I didn't post this on my actual 'cancer'versary (yikes, who says that?) but I was...drinking. a lot. That is what young cancer 'survivors' do; drink, dance and drink some more. And then some more dancing.

Canspiration found.

Looking for canspiration

I haven't been feeling very canspirational lately but I feel like I should unload some good/bad energy.
Oh wait, I'm getting inspiration from my father right now, who is standing on the couch I am sitting on, vacuuming the windows above meas I am writing this.  Picture it.

Still on navelbine. Still kicking my ass: itchy skin, golf ball indigestion, muscle aches, joint pains, fatigue, and I'll just say stomach issues for now. It's working and winning. My tumor markers are down, yay!, which is great but less exciting when you feel like shit all the time.

As usual, I'm ballin' when on chemo.  I went on a mini girl's night overnight trip a few weeks ago to Dover, Delaware...a girl's dream. Mind you, this was in the midst of a week of severe stomach pains where I dropped some poundage quickly (fist pump me chemo).  At the bar a boy, yes a boy, approached me and said he liked my hair and then asked if I was in the air force. Really? The air force? And since cancer causes me to have the "I have cancer" tick, and I think that people immediately think I have cancer because I have a short haircut (everybody thinks like me, right?), I responded, "NO, I HAVE CANCER." .....awkward..... But apparently he didn't mind and we got our dance on.  And now he's a 'stage 5 clinger' texter. Leave it to me to get into an awkward situation. I should have just given him one of these:

Cancer always gets in the way.

On the other hand, I would not have met Dr. M, if I didn't have cancer. He is the doctor that saw me when my doctor was away during my severe stomach pain week.  My doctor told me that young people with cancer scare all the other doctors in the office, so she is the one who usually takes them as patients. But Dr. M, had no choice and had to see me. When he saw me and my file his response was, "oh, you're the one...." Is that bad or good? Turns out it was good. My doctor told me Dr. M was really happy to have met me and said he could tell right away that I had an old, sweet soul and was easy to be around, etc., etc.  The nicest thing anyone has ever said about me:)  I think I am the star cancer patient in the office, just sayin.....

I want my NAVELBINE!

I am the worst rockstar ever! I didn't even make it three weeks! I was literally a non-functioning human, which does not equal rockstar status.:(

On to the next one............navelbine.  These chemos keep getting weirder. I want to be on the team who gets to name them.  I just had a vision, new TV show,"Who wants to be a Chemo Namer?"
This one actually comes from the periwinkle plant. Cool.
Here's the score: Navelbine-3, Carla-0
As soon as I got my 'quick' IV of the drug, I began to have intense 'indigestion' pain.  It literally feels like a large object is stuck in my chest and throat. Great. Apparently, this might be because my cute little friend I like to call cancer, is in my sternum, and the chemo is working its magic in my sternum, RIGHT NOW.  How crazy is that shit???? (One point for navelbine). 
As this is happening, I am watching a cancer patient sitting across from me get chemo through her port for the first time. Ah, I remember the days...........it hurts like a bitch!!!!!!!  See, nurses and doctors play this mean trick on you where they don't prescribe numbing cream until AFTER you feel the true pain of getting a nous (needle of unusual size) stuck in your port.  Well, watching this poor woman (in her 50s) start crying like a child from the pain, really makes you think......cancer is the real deal. Fuck that!

Oh, navelbine scores points 2 and 3, my skin itches so bad all over I want to crawl out of it. And I already had diarrhea, I thought it was supposed to cause constipation!  Ooh, ooh, let's play would you rather!  Would you rather have diarrhea or constipation? Go!