My life the adventure novel.

Seems like every time I post here it's been longer and longer since my last entry. Perhaps, dear blog, we have become too much for one another. Or you've become too much for me anyway, since it certainly can't be my life that is too fabulous to record.

Wah my life is so hard, wah.

I think the problem that I have with blogging - and honestly - the reason why I post so little these days, is that I feel as though it's more of a stage than a diary. I remember the days of livejournal, back when James and I would write 2-3 times a day sometimes in much the same fashion as I spam twitter nowadays. It was all stream of consciousness and it didn't matter if it didn't make THAT much sense because "it's my blog, if you don't like it don't read it".

I want this post to be a "you're not the boss of me now" style post, where I decide to post what I want because it IS my blog, but at the end of the day I'm a grown up now and my thoughts, feelings and opinions have more impact now than they ever did back then. Friends, family, loved ones who read this don't want to hear about my day to day struggles with my weight, or how INCREDIBLY CRANKY I am right now. Nobody wants to read about the mundane, in-between stuff, it's just not good blogging.

Anyway I'm not sure where I'm going with this except that I'm in a bad mood and I wish I had somewhere like I used to to express that. This is growing up.

xx. A.

Memories.

So, I was sitting on twitter earlier (I know, shocking), and there's this fantastic #TAG going on at the moment called the best friends tag. I started to do it but it was spamming a whole lot (which is saying something coming from me, TRUST).. so I decided to do it on my blog.

Anyway, about 10 minutes in I got super bored so I deleted the whole thing and instead I will tell you a story.

A long long time ago, when I was about 18? And James was a year younger than me I guess, we lived together in a very small "bedroom" (it was actually a garage). We thought we were super cool in our own little.. Bachelor[ette] pad, I guess?  It was really quite lame and I am super ashamed even looking at the pictures but I'm going to share some.. just because.

We painted the whole thing white with the intention of doing "Graffiti Art" on the walls, to kind of make the room punk-rock (we were both going through an Avril/punk/aahhh rebellion stage, and both had dyed black hair, dark eyeliner and bracelets upto our elbows).. about two seconds in to the very first "artwork" it became very clear that neither of us are Graffiti Artists, and so we decided instead to cover it in posters.

Anyway, one day we were sitting on our computers (which were literally feet from one another), listening to music, when I turned to him and said "Nach [my nickname for him and his for me], get on MSN I need to talk to you" ... it really didn't occur to either of us that this was unusual in any way whatsoever until much, much later. We also had a couch (which you can sort of see in the forefront of the picture above) which was magical, named "The Couch Bin" and would sometimes produce Coke or any other beverage that you expressed desire for. It was amazing.

I guess that's all, except I <3 and miss my Nachboo. <3 <3 <3 BFF. .. even in terrible webcam photos where I'm eating your face off! Aaaahhh we were so young!! <3

xx. A.

The early bird gets the worm.

I'm sick and cranky, so here's a list of things on Facebook I don't give a fuck about:

1.  The status of your childs bowel movements. Here's a hint: I don't think anyone else cares, either. But that's just me.
2.  How "sd u r abt wut hpnd on hm & awy tonit lolllllzzz".
3.  Those "93% of people are effected by XYZ" statuses. If you want to help with Cancer/AIDS/whatever the fuck, donate some money or time or something. GTFO my live feed.
4.  Actually, the status of anything your child does, ever. If I wanted to be your kids friend/hear about its day, I'd tell it to make a facebook.
5.  How cold it is! I can have awkward conversations with people about the weather IRL, I don't want it online too!
6.  Reality TV! If I cared about it, I'd watch it ! You should be ashamed of the fact you watch it, and hiding it as best you can, not making updates about who you think should win! FOR SHAME!
7.  Any random in-joke you have with ONE person on your friends list. Here's another hint: post it on their wall, asswipe.
8.  How much money you spent on your new car/house/boat/anything. Isn't money one of those deadly 3 you arent supposed to discuss in public? Yeah.. don't do it.
9.  How much you loooooooove your significant other and how happy they make you and how sexy they are and SHUT THE FUCK UP NOBODY CARES. Who are you trying to convince, us or you?
10.  Most stuff really. IDGAF.


I'm tired.
xx. A.

Emokid post of the month.

Being single is hard. Anyone who says otherwise is freaking insane. Either that or they've never been in a real relationship before to understand what it is they're missing.

Even the worst of relationships have things that - once they're over - will be missed. The way she cooked scrambled eggs, for example, or the way he made you feel comfortable about yourself even if you hadn't showered in days and were wearing some grungy pajamas with a hole in the thigh. It's things like that that you never really let go of, the small things.

Smaller than that, even.. Having someone to chat to after a long day at work, a friendly face at the end of the day, not having to make every decision on your own, not eating every dismal meal from a box especially designed for pathetic lonely people such as yourself. Knowing someone will always tell you you look fantastic even when you don't. Having someone who will make exceptions for you, because you are you and they don't need any reason other than that.

I am so incredibly grateful to K&N for letting me stay with them because honestly I don't think I could handle living alone right now. I'm a fairly self sufficient person and I like my space and my "me time", but I'm slowly going insane due to an abundance of "me time".  I find myself doing things like immediately folding laundry once it's out of the dryer or actually CLEANING my room by choice rather than necessity. Anything that will distract from the pit of cold that sits at the bottom of my stomach, clenching and unclenching.

Things like grocery shopping, which I used to do online rather than going to the store myself, have become hours-long activities that I look forward to.. which is amusing really, since for the most part all I ever come home with is frozen meals for one and Coke Zero.

I'm lonely, I guess. And I never noticed it so much before but living alone [more or less] really hammers it home. I do have K&N but unless they specifically invite me to spend time with them I try not to intrude. They're like, the perfect couple - all wrapped up in an adorable pink love-bubble and I almost feel as though I'm stealing from them anytime I take any of their time that could have otherwise be spent with one another. Don't get me wrong, neither of them act that way, it's just a weird paranoia or something I guess. I'm bad at being the third wheel.

Which is amusing really, since I spent what, 3 years being Bec and Sali's third wheel? I guess - like I said - you don't really know what you're missing until you've experienced it yourself.. nowadays when I'm around couples I just want to either a. strangle them or b. get the hell away.

I really need to start getting back into my writing as I hear having a hobby is "the go" for painfully single women who don't want to become crazy cat ladies [I'm really much more of a dog person :(].

Anyway it's about bedtime, I think. This has been another emokid post by yours truly!

xx. A.

Brain goo at 1am.

I've started writing for my blog about 5 times in the last two weeks but I always get caught up in the first 2 paragraphs or so. Something wont flow properly, or will sound stupid, or I'll sit here worrying about what someone will think about me if they read it, so I'll just backspace the whole thing. Tsk! Gone are the days of old where I'd sit in a darkened room, sipping a cruiser and listening to music from Final Fantasy, spewing my mindless opinions out to the world and expecting it to react as though I'd handed over gold.

Anyway, it's late/early. I made the mistake of drinking a Coke Zero at about 8pm with dinner. I didn't realise it was as late as it was, and now I'm AWAKE. It's hilarious how much caffeine effects me, sometimes I wish I didn't absolutely abhor the smell of coffee so that I could actually attempt to drink it and see how wired I got. haha! 

I'm listening to Vanessa Carlton at the moment. I've been going through this 'older music' phase - and when I say older, I mean 5-10 years ago older, not "The Beatles" older. I apologise if I've disappointed anyone out there. I feel as though music played a huge part in shaping who I am today, and as I go through my collection I'm shocked to find artists who I absolutely loved and felt as though they were writing from my very SOUL when I heard their songs.. who I've not listened to for years.

I've been drafting an entry for a few weeks now - music/artists that have influenced my life.. I think I'll put a real effort in to finishing that tomorrow night. 

Tomorrow afternoon I'm going out for lunch and shopping with Karlee. I'm quite excited cause we haven't hung out in ages and we've got soooo much to catch up on. She's about to close a deal on her first HOUSE at the moment, and god knows what other exciting stuff that I've missed cause I fail at being social. 

Speaking of being social, I've been REALLY in the mood to go dancing lately. I've been listening to "Born This Way" almost on repeat for the last week and it really pumps me up. I think I've got more than 100 plays on itunes and that's after only acquiring it last Sunday.. insane. But yeah, I think a clubbing night is somewhere in the near future cause I need somewhere to wear one of my nice dresses and also somewhere to just let go and get some RELEASE.

I feel like I have a constant tension headache these days, cause my life is so up in the air. I'm staying in a friends spare room and my current job is a temporary deal.. Arrrggh! I need a massage! 

Anyway, after this nice little spew of stream of consciousness, I think I'm going to go and attempt to force myself to sleep. . seeing as I need to wake up in 7 hours. Goodnight Moon.

xx. A.

Changes - they are a'comin'.

Well, I don't want to get into specifics here. I'd like to keep my personal life at least a little bit personal.

In any case, I'm moving out of my current place of residence. I'm not sure exactly of the details, where I'll end up in the long term, but for now - tomorrow - I'm moving in to my "twin" Karens spare room. I've spent since Friday afternoon packing and cleaning and wow.. is it emotional.

It's weird, I've only lived here for a year and a few months but this was probably the most 'home-y' my house has ever been. I've never really been the put-pictures-on-the-wall and have-vases-of-fresh-flowers kinda girl but I have to say, this is probably the most comfortable I've ever been.

Not only that but Steven has been such a huge part of my life for so long now. It's going to be weird not knowing how he's doing. Things haven't been great between us for a long time, but I'm going to be worried about him, and I will miss him.

I'm concerned about money, on top of all that. I have lots.. and LOTS of debt.. I'm not really sure how I'm going to manage to save for bond, and all the stuff you need for a new house. Karen and her boyfriend are fantastic and I doubt they'd throw me out but I don't want to overstay my welcome. I hate to beg, but if you had ever intended clicking the "feed me" button - now is the time.

Anyway, just thought I'd put a quick message up to say I might not blog too often [no real change there] for the next few weeks while I figure my shit out. That said, I might blog 10x as much because I'm lonely.. I guess we'll see.

xx. A.

Whinging.

So it's 3:25am and I'm sitting at my computer watching House, pretending it isn't Christmas.

I'm trying to be upbeat because tomorrow I have to go face a bunch of people who are happy about the day it is, but honestly I'd just prefer to skip the day entirely and go right on to getting up at 4am the NEXT day so I can spend 4 hours travelling and see my family.

It's horrible because I know they're trying to hard to make it a nice day, but it really just isn't the same and being around a bunch of people who are happy and trying to pretend to be happy as well is just going to make it 10x as bad, I can already tell.

I know I should be thankful because these people don't need to include me in their festivities, and I appreciate the thought. I guess just being away from my brothers in particular the last few Christmases has really gotten to me.. Boxing day can't come soon enough. =]

xx. A.

Lazy Saturday.

I had a great day. I slept like 11 hours [which is more than I had collectively all week, I think] without waking myself up choking or coughing. It freaking ruled. I feel like I'm finally in the uphill stretch of this chest infection. Still no voice [infact it seems to be even more gone than it was? odd?] but I'm starting to feel a lot less foggy, which is nice.

The Internet went out [thanks iiNet for being so reliable!] about 40 minutes after I woke up, and even though I spend the majority of my time online these days [what else is there to do when you're housebound the way I am most of the time?] it really wasn't that big a deal. I played 11 hours of Pokemon [haha nerd!] and listened to 14 chapters of Harry Potter and I just had a really nice, laid back day.

On the subject of Harry Potter I am reaaaally looking forward to seeing Deathly Hallows. I've read the book about 6 times now and it was probably my second favorite in the series. I haven't always liked what they've done with the movies [leaving cruicial things out, adding things that don't make sense, etc] but I guess it's the same as any book > movie adaptation, changes will be made and nobody will ever be entirely happy about it. Not sure when I'm going to go see it, at this point, but I'm in no rush - I'm sure it'll be in cinemas atleast until the next one comes out. haha! 

I guess I don't really have a lot to say, I just wanted to check in and let you all know I'm starting to feel a little better. Thank you to everyone who keeps trying to call and give wellwishes, and sorry I keep letting it go to message bank but as I mentioned above, I have literally nothing of a voice left.

Anyway I'm off to bed.. probably to play Pokemon for another hour or so.. need to get my 4th badge!

xx. A.

3am and she calls me cause I'm still awake...

Last night was fun. I don't really wanna write a post about it but I feel like I've already had to explain it so many times it's just going to be easier to write it here rather than having to recount to everyone over and over.

So anyway last night I woke up at about 2:20am and I couldn't breathe. That's not unusual for me [I've been battling with a chest infection for about a week now] so I -- as calmly as I could -- rushed to the bathroom and ran a steaming hot shower and got under, just letting the water fall on my back. After a minute or two I felt like my airway had opened up a little and I tried to breathe deeper to encourage that.

Big. Mistake.

Almost immediately I started having these coughing spasms which resulted in me bringing up bloody, thick mucus. A heavy flow of it too, I felt like I was choking everytime I'd bring more up because I literally couldn't breathe for the amount of it that was coming up.

This obviously was a bit of a wake up for me and some bells rang in my head and I realised I needed to get my ass to hospital. I climbed out of the shower and got dressed, found some shoes [waking Steven in the process] and headed out.

I'm fairly familiar with my hospital by this point but the emergency ward [and I'm lead to believe, the entire general admissions area] are completely seperate from the radiation unit that I frequent. The nurse couldn't even find me on the computer until she came and got my medicare card and swiped it through her machine. I thought I'd feel a lot more familiar with the whole process than I actually did, so it was nice to know there was someone familiar in the waiting room for me.

The first thing the triage nurse realised and freaked out about [then tried to hide her freaking out'ness -- great poker face there lady] was that my oxygen [de?]saturation levels were waaaay too low, so I spent the first hour or so on a ventilator with pure oxygen trying to fix that.

After that she ran some tests, stuck some sticky things to me [and even now after having a shower I still cant get the sticky residue stuff off my skin], had me blow into like 5 different machines, did a chest xray, sat me on another ventilator with some actually medicated stuff this time which made me jittery as all hell.. until the doctor eventually came back and looked at all my results and basically said, "Yeah your chest infection is reaaaaaaaaaaaal infected, you can go home now".

... AWESOME.  So after lazy doctor lady went away the nurse showed me the xrays and explained that basically my entire left lung was struggling with the infection and that's why I'd been coughing up the bloody mucus and struggling with my breathing and such. She gave me some steroids, some antibiotics and an inhaler [I'm a real geek now!!] and sent me home -- just in time to hit peak hour traffic with everyone going to work, yay! So yeah.. that's my story!

Now I'm just sitting at my computer surrounded by tissues and various medications, sipping at some water and wishing to GOD I could eat some double chocolate ice cream right now.

xx. A.

Sleep.

I've written about it before but at this point I really don't care if I'm repeating myself. Sleep sucks.

I feel like it's this cruel cycle -- I'm getting sicker because I'm not sleeping, but I can't sleep because I'm sick.

I can't lay down flat or my lungs fill up [with gunk, not air, which is what you'd want them to fill up with] and I can't breathe, on top of which they make these terrible noises you can hear from the next room so I have to all but sit up [which is fun, by the way, with only 1 pillow - I've been using my dressing gown as an additional prop]. IF -- and that's a huuuuuuge if, by the way -- I manage to get in a position where my body can even comprehend sleep I end up coughing myself awake before I even pass the 'dozing' stage. I'm constantly running these insane temperatures so I'll just break into a flopsweat from time to time which is fantastic when I literally only own one set of sheets.

It's funny because I've spent so much time in bed the last four or five days, but if I added it up I'd guess I've slept maybe 6 hours? Don't get me wrong, I was there with the intention of sleep and my eyes have been closed [for the most part], it's just.. not happening.

I feel almost delerious at this point, to be honest. I'm at the point where I've had just bits and pieces of sleep -- almost, like glimpses of sleep through a mirror -- and my body is already so exhausted and working so hard trying to handle the radiation and breaking down the cancer and then my chest infection on top of that, that a lack of sleep is just sending me into a tailspin.

The worst part of all this is I've lost my voice - it's literally gone. All I have is a squeak at the end of some words. I'd never really and truly lost my voice before so it was really funny for me the first day or two but now it's just frustrating.

Anyway, I'm handling it. I always handle it. I just thought I'd duck my head in here and let you all know I'm still alive. I was planning on waiting until I got better to start writing again because my head is so mushy and I didn't want to be subjecting the internet to my current state, but I think at this point it's clear I'm not going to get better anytime soon so I'm back for better or for worse, and I apologize in advance for rambling or terrible posts that come as a result of that.

xx. A.

Not really an update.

Hi, my chest infection is getting worse so I probably won't be updating much this week [despite my promise to update more this week than I did last week]. =[ I've been sleeping an average of 15 hours a day at the moment which isn't bad since I'm out of the house around 10 hours of the day.

I'll be back when I'm better.

xx. A.

Inspiration from odd places.

I've been sick for about a week now [on top of being sick, that is]. It's just a cold -- I'm not going to die from it or anything -- but it definitely feels like it. My immune system is so fried from my treatment that adding anything on top just.. isn't fair. I'm exhausted - even more tired than I ever thought possible, my nose runs like a kitchen faucet, my eyes and head hurt all the time and it feels as though my brain is too big for my skull [which we KNOW isn't true. haha], I ache everywhere just in general.. and yeah.. =]! Fun times! In good news I'm starting to feel a bit better so hopefully next week won't suck quite so bad.

Given my sickness, I've been spending a lot of time in bed catching up on TV shows [I have a habit of going weeks without watching and then having like 5 episodes of 6 different shows to watch], watching movies I got months ago and never quite got around to viewing, and playing my fair share of video games. I've also finished my second audiobook and I'm onto The Return of the King! Tolkien is a god.

My god I can get distracted -- ANYWAY -- I was watching an episode of How I Met Your Mother in which one of the characters has had a messy break up and the rest of the gang are trying to get her to delete the Ex's number from her phone. During this conversation/arguement they're all faced with numbers/peoples/memories they've kept in their phones for long past their due date and all, eventually, more or less move past it.

I felt an odd connection to this episode and I watched it twice [which anyone who knows me will tell you is strange, I very rarely watch even a movie more than once, much less TV shows] to try figure out why. At the end of the episode - reluctantly - I opened my phone contacts list and just.. started deleting. I went from a phone book of 74 contacts to just over 20 [and this includes a large quantity of doctors, different areas of the hospital, etc so I don't have to be constantly transferred around]. It shocked me once I was done and I was very careful not to stop and count how many were left until I got to the Z's incase I chickened out and had a half-clean half-terrible phonebook.

It's funny, but there were people in there I literally haven't spoken to in years - for so long that they've moved house/state/COUNTRY EVEN and I don't even know if that number is still their number - and yet I kept it 'just in case'. I'm talking ex boyfriends, old real estate agencies, taxi numbers for 2 different states and 4 different towns [lol!], 'friends' who I'd rather die than speak to again.. the list goes on and on. There were even a few in there listed as "Firstname, PubIMetThemAt". I've never, ever called these people or spoken to them again after the night I met them but some of those numbers have been in my contact list for long enough that they transferred phones when I got my current phone TWO YEARS AGO.

I feel so liberated! It's so fantastic to open my phone book to call someone and only have to scroll to the letter their name is listed under, not then have to search through a myriad of people I can barely remember to find the person I actually want to speak to. I highly recommend it! I'm sure I've deleted numbers I'll use again but I figure that's what google or yellowpages is for and the only other problem I can foresee is that now the people whose numbers I kept specifically to avoid the calls of [cringe!!] are free to harrass me once more.. I figure that's easily solved by letting private numbers or numbers I don't have listed go to voicemail, though.

In summary, I felt very inspired and even though I feel like warmed up poop I still feel inspired. =] I can't wait to feel better so my brain can be less mushy and I can get back on track with Project: Writers [Un]Block and my various other blog projects. On a side note - please don't get offended if your calls go to voice mail - mass deletion will always have one or two numbers go by accident and it's easy enough to fix. <3 <3

xx. A.

Blast from the past!

So I was up late last night [surprise surprise] chatting with a friend to pass the time and we got onto the subject of my writing. I was telling him how everyone keeps encouraging me to write but it's so hard because I am just so critical of myself. 16 year old me was an amazing person - if I do say so myself - she had imagination and the guts to explore it and she wasn't scared to push aside the 'real world' to do that.

I feel as though I am competing with this girl and when I write now I find myself backspacing more than I type. It sounds extreme but I've had to resort to promising myself I wont backspace at all, belting out an entire post/story/whatever and then allowing myself 10 minutes for editing at the end. No more. If I was allowed to run free with my editing I'd never get a post up because there's always something that could be worded better, always something I could research and sound more plausible.

Anyway I've decided I'm going to share a few 'oldies' from around 2000 -- I was FOURTEEN [well.. fifteen later in the year but that's beside the point] then. I've decided teenage me was awesome but adult me has billions of years experience on her and is going to [once she has had a chance to get back on the horse again] knock teenage me's writing out of the park.

This was a poem I wrote for year 10 English. These days I would never have dreamed of attempting poetry, much less something this long, so I think I'm going to do one of the Poetry challenges for Project: Writers [Un]Block in the near future.. face that fear head on, you know?! Anyway, on with it.

Someday

He rode upon  the sky
And the dark plane he was in
Cast an earthly shadow
A shadow small and thin
But everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"

He launched the tiny Cesna
Into the grave of blue
And when the wind and clouds caved in
He promised to stay true

The little Cesna, Shirley
Was brave and strong and good --
When Shirley couldn't make it
Her humble master could
In unity they suffered
And conquered every foe
And flew from mornings blinding light
to midnights ebon glow
And everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"

When skies were dark and baleful
He kept his goals in sight
He yearned for fame -- to see his name
In marquee's of gold light
He whispered to young Shirley
"You're with me til' the end"
And Shirley promised to be strong
And save her lifelong friend
And everyday he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"

With wings of silver eagles
And little fuel to spare
He soared upon the open skies
In hopes of getting there
But hurricane winds trembled
And a storm was soon full blown --
He clenched his fists and firmly vowed
To do it on his own

But the hurricane was ghastly
And it tore the battered sky
Like a cheetah lashing with razor teeth
Or a vulture on the fly
The rain and wind were wedded
And the marriage finallly steered
Shirley toward exactly what
Her master always feared

The hurricane had driven
The plane down through the atmosphere
Until its pilot realised
The bitter end was near
Still everynight he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"

But as he whispered steadfast
He felt an inward ruth
That everynight, his words had grown
Father from the truth

And then that night, small Shirley
Felt her vigor disappear
And then she told her master
That he couldn't cry a tear --
For they would die together,
And never have to part
The Cesna felt her soul entwined
With her dear masters heart
And one last time he'd whisper
Undaunted by defeat;
"This is my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet"

Shirley sailed downward
And plunged into the sea
But still her silent Cesna heart
Was whole, and close to he
Her master sank down with her
His lonely head above
The heart of her, his only plane
And too -- his only love

He still lies there this minute
Now petrified as stone
With no marquees, no lights of gold --
He was a man unknown
No nomument was built for him
No poems to laud his name
And no one ponders over his
Eternal, ceaseless game
But maybe a young child whispers
Every morning, somewhere near
Something strong and simple,
that she hopes someone will hear:
"Lord, let me remain until my death,
Undaunted by defeat.
This, my quest -- I'll do my best
Someday my goals I'll meet".

xx. A.

Just another manic Monday.

I feel like Garfield everytime I write anything about Mondays and how much I hate them. Even if I don't mean all Mondays and just that particular Monday at all, it just feels as though I'm being so incredibly cliche and so, inevitably, I end up backspacing and leaving it be.

Yesterday, however, was a pretty tough day so I'm not going to backspace. I got my lab results back from last week and in the four weeks that I've been having treatment there has only been a 4% reduction which pretty much means it will definitely be going for the full 12 weeks and not the 8 I had hoped for.

I'm disappointed, I won't lie. I'm struggling -- but I'll manage. I have thus far, and even though I feel as though I am as stretched as thin as I can possibly go, I'm sure there's 8 more weeks in me, somewhere.

xx. A.

Summary.

Today was hard.

I wonder if I should even bother typing that anymore.

xx. A.

Rambling.

Sleep is one of those things. I can sit up all night yawning and putting it off because it's too early and I don't want to be awake at buttcrack in the morning.. and then finally - hours later, at a decent time of night - lay down, comfortable in my little nest of pillows and blankets and stuffed toys.. only to find that sleep will not come.

Tonight is one of those nights.


xx. A.

The Long Day.

Today started out like any other, I woke several times throughout the early morning to go cuddle with the toilet, followed by crawling back to bed and collapsing there, wrapped around the body pillow that has become my best friend of late.

Eventually my alarm went off -- "I'm walking on sunshine, woaahhhhh!! I'm walking on sunshine, woahhhhh~!! And don't it feel good!" -- this was something I found amusing when I was well and was an incredible aid to me waking up in a good mood. The upbeat, cheery singing and fast paced beat had became the ultimate morning song for me. Oddly, these days, I find it has the exact opposite effect. I'm still not sure why I haven't changed it except that maybe I'm worried I'd ruin another song by making it my alarm.

I slowly accepted consciousness, blinking heavily and turning to one side - away from the open blinds of my window which [despite the rain outside] revealed a bright and sunny day.

Showering is a particularly fun task. I find that the heat of the spray makes my stomach do sommersaults and more often than not find myself on my knees, grasping for the bucket I keep beside the shower cubical 'just in case'. Today though, my bucket remained empty, and I went about the task of washing my body and hair of any remains of the nights "rest".

Eventually I was clean, and dried, and dressed [more or less] and threw my hair up into a ponytail. I've learned - over the last few weeks - that it is easier just to keep my hair tied up than to try hold it back when I am crouched unforgivingly over a toilet, or bucket, or gutter, or wherever the mood strikes.

I did the three tap check [wallet - keys - phone] and was out the door, wondering how it could be both so bright and so rainy at the same time, but too tired -- already -- to go back up the stairs to retrieve my umbrella.

The bus to the hospital is slow. The driver knows me by now and gives me a sympathetic smile [I don't want your sympathy] as I sit in the front seat, both arms crossed firmly across my stomach, trying to hold down what little remained in there. I never eat breakfast before radiation -- a lesson I learned on my very first day and learned well.

Finally -- blissfully -- the bus pulls to a stop out front of the hospital and I almost explode out of the door, scratching my arm on the buzzer on the way out. One hand pressed firmly over my - now bleeding - arm, the other arm still wrapped around my stomach, I press the button on the elevator and let my head rest against the cool metal of the door for a few minutes.

The Oncology Unit is fairly large - definitely larger than I had expected the first time - and the nurse on reception greets me with another sympathetic smile [I don't want your sympathy!]. I take my seat in the waiting room next to an old man named Bill. Bill and I are old friends by now and he grabs my hand and squeezes it gently in his own. Its pretty funny but I well up a little - I've been doing this on my own for so long now - even this tiny act of support is so much more than I expect.

I pretend to listen to my iPod [I'm listening to The Hobbit on Audiobook and it's actually really good, even though I've read it about 15 times and could almost recite it along with the reader] until Bill eventually gets called in, and about half an hour later, it's my turn.

My Radiologists name is Alex. He's pretty young, and he makes me laugh a lot. I can't pronounce his last name [it starts with a C and it's kind of Italian sounding?] so he just has me call him Dr. Alex. I like him.

The process has become almost habit for us, I undress in the room just before you enter the room where the radiation machine is and put on the flimsy hospital gown which is folded neatly on the seat. I then pull my shirt on over the top of the gown [something which I don't think you're supposed to do but Dr. Alex seems to 'get' that being naked infront of all these people is scary for me, and he suggested it on the first day of the second week] and go lay down on the bed under the machine.

Alex says it's okay to read or something while it's happening, but I always watch very closely. I can only just barely see him from behind the glass [I can't wear my glasses] but I feel like if I'm watching him he's less likely to give in to some crazy scientist and use me as an experiment or something.

I feel so vulnerable, and my skin has started to blister over the last few weeks. It hurts -- I bite my lip.

It's over within fiften minutes and soon a nurse has come in to usher me to my clothing and helps me get dressed again. Suddenly I'm not as shy as I was about being naked infront of someone else - my head is light and I can't stand up too well.

My doctor makes an appointment on Monday for me to take some blood tests, and fusses around me for half an hour or so, taking my blood pressure and asking questions. He tells me I have to see the therapist - Theresa - more often.

I don't remember much after that, just the 'beep' as I got on the bus and my forehead pressed against the cool glass window. Eventually the driver helps me out of my seat and down the stairs -- she stops at the top of the hill so I don't have to walk so far, even though I don't think she's supposed to do that either.

Eventually I make it home and here I am, writing this. I guess it wasn't such a big day afterall -- it's only 2:11pm. I think I'm going to nap now.

xx. A.

Anger.

I'm angry.

Not regular, "the dog knocked over a potplant", angry. But deep and soulseething angry, I want to throw things angry, screaming doesn't make me feel any better angry. Angry to the very core of my being. I feel as though my person has been absorbed by this living, breathing ball of anger that just cannot be expressed.

I'm the kind of person who (as previously mentioned) doesn't deal with emotions very well. My usual reaction to being mad or regular-person angry is just to walk away - to ignore it and wait for it to simmer away until there's nothing left and I'm okay again. And for the most part, this has worked.

This kind of angry though, it doesn't simmer down, it boils and bubbles over. For days I can be mad about the one thing until I just cannot hold it in any longer and I explode - almost literally - at whoever is unfortunate enough to be in line of sight. In the last month I have had more arguments than I previously had even LISTENED to in years. I've snapped at people for asking how I am - or for not asking often enough. I've snapped at people for suggesting that I look tired and should go rest. I've snapped for no reason at all except that the anger is so thick that I cannot swallow it back any longer.

I know where the anger stems from. I'm mad that I'm sick. I'm hurt that people seem to seesaw between being overbearingly caring and forgetting I exist. I'm scared of dying - as remote an option as this seems, as far fetched, according to statistics and all the paperwork doctors have fed me - I'm petrified.

I'm angry with myself for not being tested sooner. I had soooo many signs for months and months before I was diagnosed and I just put it off because I was embarrassed, it wasn't until I was FORCED to face the music as it were that I finally went to the doctor.

I guess, honestly, that's the biggest thing. I'm angry with myself and I find it impossible to feel anything else, toward almost anyone else. And that really sucks.

xx. A.

How it is.

So here's the deal -- I have cancer.

I'm not writing this blog for sympathy or to make a 'connection' with other 'survivors' or whatever the fuck, I'm writing because if I don't I'm going to kill someone. And hey, I might kill someone anyway so I guess we'll see.

I was diagnosed on Tuesday the 31st of August. First stage Cervical Cancer.. which honestly, if you have to have cancer, I guess this is the one you want to get. Entirely treatable through the most non-invasive methods available, and the survival and recovery rates are really quite high. I guess those facts didn't really sink in as the Doctor told me though because all I could hear was this white noise hissing in my ears and my head felt fuzzy like it was full of cotton balls or something. I was going through the motions but I felt like I was just looking down on a me-puppet from very far away, watching her make decisions and nod and seem to understand what the guy in the white jacket was telling her.

I don't handle emotions very well (obviously) so I hung onto it for a while and just kind of let puppet-me continue to go to work and carry on with life until I eventually got the balls to call my parents. They've been divorced for a few years now, so I had to tell them seperately, and honestly I think the hardest thing I've ever done was tell my dad. My mum has had cancer before so I knew it wasn't going to be a big thing to tell her -- she would know I'd come out on the other side okay and there'd be no crying or fuss. My dad though, he's the kind of person who is built to be a father -- he cares very deeply and he takes responsibility for everything. It nearly broke me to tell him. I felt like - by getting sick - I'd let him down. I guess in a way I still feel like that.

The next few days were a mess of phone calls, telling people who I hadn't spoken to for months but who -- apparently -- needed to know from me because it would be rude if they found out from someone else. It never got easier, "Oh hi, yah it's me. How've you been? ... oh that's good, good.. me? Oh, you know, working hard -- got a promotion at work a month or so ago so it's been crazy. Oh and you know what else! I have cancer! Craziest thing!" ... yeah.

Honestly that's something I find I'm still doing. Telling people because I feel like I'm obligated to, or pretending I'm okay on days when I'm really not, just because it would make people uncomfortable if I told the truth when they asked - uncaringly - "How are you?".

That's something that really gets to me, you know? Don't ask if you don't want a real answer. I am so angry and full of rage at the moment. I hurt. I'm nauseous. I'm tired. I really and truly do not have a single socially required "Fine thanks!" left in me and I really don't see why I should have to continue to offer them.

So anyway I guess I'll cut that post off here. Maybe I'll continue to recount what happened from then or maybe I'll just use this as a place to bitch or post about video games. Or maybe I just won't even bother posting at all, again. We'll see, I suppose.

xx. A.