I am not sure what bit me or what happened exactly on my butt, but whatever it was originally it has now turned into a nasty scabbed up bloody infection that is in 2 spots the size of a quarter each. Chemo has slowed healing in my body down so the best I can do for now is keep it clean and dry apply neosporin and a medicated bandage to try to keep the infection to a minimum and pray that it slowly heals. For now it hurts alot. It is just another sad inconvenience of this whole ordeal.
I havent talked about Tracie alot lately because well..he's been m.i.a. I text him everyday and on occasion he may return a text but most go unanswered. There is a growing distance between us and it hurts more than I can make him understand. I try everyday and he doesnt say why he just keeps saying everything is ok. I finally snap and confront him and he finally admits that he is scared. That me going through this reminds him of his mom going through it and it makes him sad. He thinks of me everyday and prays for me everyday and misses me everyday but when he's scared he shuts down. I explain to him that being 700 miles apart he cant shut down on me. I dont know what he's thinking..I dont know what he's feeling or doing..I'm not there. I cant read his mind. I dont want to fight this battle with him. I'm ready to cut my losses and move the hell on. I have my family and friends if a relationship isnt in the cards right now so be it. I cant hold his hand through my illness. I need him to hold mine. I tell him all this. I tell him if he cant be the man I need then dont be anything go away move on leave me alone. I will more than happily find a man who will love & appreciate all I do and all I am. He finally gets what I'm saying and snaps out of his stupidity. How many more times I will have to do this I dont know. I hope he will keep it together and support me the way I need him to..we'll see. It's becoming an annoying chore to get folks to act right and not just with him but with alot of people. Before this diagnosis folks treated me normal..talked to me normal. Now so many folks treat me like I'm fragile and going to break or worse yet die. Like getting close to me means they risk losing me. I have to constantly console and reassure people that I'm fine and I'll get through this and it gets kinda irritating. Why am I consoling you over my illness? Seriously..umm..I'm the one with cancer..what the fuck are you crying about? I get tired of cheering folks up when Im not always in a good damn mood myself. Guess what folks..I'm not always happy. If you are expecting to read this journal in hopes of always getting happy delightful messages of survival this aint that blog. Sorry but I'm writing to you very real raw and extremely emotional. That's just how I feel somedays. There are days when the pain is unbearable, when the nausea or diarrhea or dizzyness wont stop. There are days when Im just tired of not being normal. Monday I did 25 minutes on the treadmill and nearly blacked out in the gym. I used to do 30 minutes on the stairclimber no problem now 25 mins on a treadmill is too much. I cry at how depressing that is. I dont know normal anymore. Normal for me is different each day. Normal 1 day can be how much pain can I bear. Normal the next day is how much nausea can I tolerate. Today it is this disgusting taste of having a mouthful of salt water that I cant get rid of. On top of that there is a strange tingling sensation on my tongue that makes it hard for me to judge if food is hot or cold. So everything has a lukewarm salty taste.
When I get home each day from work and strip out of my contacts wig clothes and stand in the mirror staring at that face I dont recognize her. This creature has my eyes but I resemble Frankenstein's monster more and more. There is a scar at my neck where the catheter line feeds into my jugular..when I turn my head the line juts up so I can see it which always sickens me. This leads down to the port in my chest which has a large barely healed hideous scar over it. The port itself protrudes from my chest in a way that reminds me of what I have left to ordeal. My head is completely bald and there is a crescent moon shaped scar about an inch long near the front of my scalp. I had a cyst removed from my scalp more than a decade ago and I wouldnt have even remembered it had it not been for this. Had I not had to look at this thing. My skin is always dry and my rosacea has gotten more pronounced the red bumps covering both cheeks all over. I cant stand to look at myself for long. I cant imagine facing Tracie this way. Everyone thinks they can accept it but if he cant even talk to me and I'm not even telling him all that I'm going through how is really gonna face it? I'd rather just let him go to be honest then deal with him looking at me with anything other than love. I dont want sympathy stares. I want that beautiful model with the shoulder length brown hair to stare back at me in the mirror. I want folks to always guess my age wrong. I want anything other than this. I used to twist my hair when I was nervous or when I was falling asleep..I have no hair to twist..I rub my baldhead missing my hair. Dont tell me it will grow back..I know that. For now though I'm bald as a plucked chicken with sallow bruised skin. That's just reality for my life right now. Friday I go for my ultrasound..I pray for good news. I dont know how much more my heart can endure.
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