Coming off the chemo ...

Generally, the cycles are the same ... I know what to expect each day. Sunday and Monday of the second week are the worst of the cycle because you are coming off the chemo drugs and the steroid drugs. I call them 'pajama' days.

Tuesday I decided I was feeling better and should get out and about. My mind was stronger than my body. I went out to Walmart to looked around for about 20 minutes when I needed to sit down as my legs were feeling weak. I stopped for a coffee and muffin and walked around for another 20 minutes and decided it was time to head home. I made one more stop and knew it was time to head home. Obviously, I thought I was stronger than I was.

Wednesday morning brought a night of awful sleep caused by bad dreams and me stopping breathing during my sleep. The stop-breathing part is something I experience mostly when I'm coming off the chemo and steroids. It is a bit scary and is extremely disruptive to my sleep. I wake up feeling like I just ran a marathon and am catching my breath ... actually ... worse.

Wednesday, I woke up and went to my poetry support group. The problem is that the group meets in the afternoon and I went for a morning time. Obviously the bad sleep mixed me pretty good.

Eventually I did make it to the poetry support group in the afternoon even though I was feeling a bit weak. Once again, I am going to share some of the writing I did during the session ... please note, I'm not a poet ...

We were to write about .... I'm angry because or How to behave with the ill ... I chose to combine the two ... here goes .....

i'm angry...

i'm angry how people behave around the ill
they seem to come with an attitude of greatness
they come with medical advice and the latest greatest cancer cure
how dare they assume they have the answer
how dare they think just because they haven't been diagnosed with cancer they don't have it
don't they see that they may be just as vulnerable to this disease
the doctor that diagnosed me is no longer here.

The next poem is described as 'blues' poetry ....

workin blues

i've got the workin blues
wishin i was workin nine to five
wakin to the alarm clock ringin
dressin for the business cass
fightin traffic all the way there
makin the first coffee pot
and chattin with everyone there
puttin in a good days work
then bitchin about it to the dog
i've got the workin blues.