All the small things

I spent my weekend in chemo induced solitude. Well, I spent it with Jen…who spent her weekend going to the store for me, cooking my meals and generally being Jenny the Nurse. She continues to amaze and impress me.

I haven’t been having many deep thoughts lately –  something to do with getting used to the routine of all of this. Which is exactly why I feel like posting.

Before, I tried to appreciate all the good, little things and not sweat the small stuff. I tried not to worry about the traffic. I tried not to get annoyed with the people in line at the store. I tried not to let things get to me.

But recently, it’s all the small things adding up together which are getting to me. Most of the things I didn’t have to worry about before – or some things with new perspectives on them – are really bugging me. (Cue rant)

Take eating for example. Although it is still a mostly pleasurable experience, now I worry about everything I put in my mouth. Is it nutritional enough? Is it a cheat? Could I be substituting something else in its place? And why am I insisting on ordering wheat bread when I’m still getting the french fries on the side? Does this make me as much of a hypocrite as the person who orders a Big Mac and a Diet Coke?

Is this me now?

Is this me now?

And the pills. And the shots. And the blood draws. And this haircut that makes me look like a cop.

I think I spent the past month trying to get used to this stuff. And now that I’m a little used to it, I’m learning to hate it.

I hate having to organize my pills. I hate giving myself the Neupogen shots. I hate trying to work Glutamine into my diet 3 times per day. I thought the infusion center was a nice place, but I’m starting to hate that too.

I hate spending this much time worrying about myself.

As the chemo side effects get a little worse each time, I can safely say that I’m starting to hate this whole thing. I’m not depressed about it and I’m not giving up the fight – it is just something that I’m looking forward to being over. And that is a huge motivator.

I still consider myself very lucky that there is an ending to all of this. That I have something positive to look forward to. I feel I may have used up all my positive karma in one fell swoop by even having the chance to put this behind me.

This computer monitor represents my lifelong supply of my positive karma. And this is cancer throwing it all out the window.

This computer monitor represents my lifelong supply of my positive karma. And this is cancer throwing it all out the window.

It feels weird that I am 1/3 of the way done with my chemo treatment…and even weirder that I have 4 1/2 more months to go.

For now, getting better is my job. I’m still getting used to my new office, my new coworkers and my new responsibilities.

I wonder if, one day, this will all feel routine and not feel ‘special’ anymore? Like working with a Technocrane or putting marks down for A-list celebrities or carrying heavy cases to the tops of office buildings in downtown LA.

I guess then I’ll start looking for a new job. I can’t wait.

PS. Speaking of small things – don’t worry if I don’t post regularly. I’ll keep everyone updated. But I don’t always feel like writing and there isn’t always something to write about. So no need to fret if you haven’t heard from me in awhile – consider it a good sign that everything is status quo.

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12 responses to “All the small things

  1. I stumbled onto your blog when looking for info about Doxorubicin. I’ll be popping in now and then to read and to send some healing thoughts your way.

  2. Happy Birthday, Son. And, happy birthday for next year and the next and the next and so on for all the birthdays ahead that you will celebrate! Let me say, I know how you feel but I don’t know how you feel. All I can do is relate this to when I broke my foot and had the cast up to my mid calf. I hated the cast. So I got really angry at having the cast and one morning I cried and angrily kept hitting the cast. Actually punched it a few times. I wanted to rip it off of my leg! Not cancer, but a broken foot. But the foot healed, the cast came off and life was good. And I eventually could wear flip-flops once again. It does not compare to what you are going thru. And Jen. Love you both very much!

  3. Geoff and Candy

    Hi Steve, we often think about you over here and send our love and best wishes to you and Jennifer.

    I personally find it hard to imagine what you are going through, notwithstanding the graphic ongoing account you are giving us, and I also find it hard to make comments about how well you are doing because I really don’t know how I would react under the same circumstances. But I admire you for trying to turn this into as positive an experience as you can.

    I think I have been more able than ever before to understand and empathise with people with cancer because of your blog, and I think it should almost be required required reading for people and families facing what you are going through at this time.

    Of course, we wish you the very best, and a Great Big Happy Birthday! We look forward to seeing you and Jen soon.

    We love you both! Geoff & Candy.

  4. happy birthday husband. you are an inspiration. you’re hysterically funny, wicked smart, thoroughly interesting, unequivocally inquisitive, unimaginably loving, questionably crazy and just plain ol weird. Just what i aspire to be.

  5. I feel for you and the frustration. It stinks to be trapped in a routine that you didn’t sign up for. Maybe it’s more like being drafted than getting a new crappy job. When my job gets frustrating I have to resist the temptation to stop at one of the two Tractor Supply Company stores on my way home and purchasing my own cattle prod… Zappy fun for under fifty dollars! Imagine how many people you could zap just while grocery shopping or going to Walmart!

    I think I’ll just stick to Resident Evil 5.

  6. Happy Birthday Steve!!!

  7. You’re going to break out of this depressing cycle. I see you attaining a nirvana where you’ll look back and go “now nothing can stop me.” It’ll happen.

    BTW remember in Dupree and Me where Lance Armstrong, cancer survivor numerous times, says “Butter, Dupree?”

  8. Happy birthday whats-your-name! Learning of your bad mood and angry perspective makes me wonder if I have cancer. I’ve had a crappy outlook like that since I was 15.

    Please keep fighting the good fight because this too shall pass and we can get back to doing stuff I will forget.

  9. Don’t fret, I think we have all always been sending you positive karma from our respective locations, but now we feel the need to let you in on the secret karma-sending. Once this is over, the positive karma will not stop, we just might not be as loud about it. You will not run out. I promise.

  10. Hey Steve,

    Happy Birthday!

    It was great to meet you last week.

    Are you playing CoD5 on the pSp?

    Love the haircut! 🙂

    Collin

  11. Hey Dickter,

    Happy, happy birthday. I’m impressed that you are able to write as much as you do. You’re a fighter, a humorist, and a damned good soul. We can’t wait to celebrate the end of this with our favorite dickberries.

    xo, Rachelle, Scott and Nola

  12. it’s your birthday too?? god you guys do everything together.
    happy birthday. good to see you last week.
    maybe you were just tired because you were working closely with kooks.

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