Well tomorrow is Chemo Day-Part 1. I am nauseous already. While I was sitting in the waiting room to see my oncologist today I was very very anxious and queasy. Then the nurse called for a Mr. Hurly and I damned near fell off my chair. That was just too spooky.
I hope that I will be able to blog as often as I have been but if you don’t hear from me for a couple days please don’t worry. I'll fire off a post as soon as I can. If I had a laptop I would blog chemo real time. Maybe I should add one to my amazon.com wishlist.
I got a message on my machine from The Agency the other day. It took me a second to realise that it was the Cancer Agency calling. Not my modelling agency. Not the CIA. Nothing as wild or exciting. Or was it? It would be very easy for me to create a wild and wonderful fantasy around my situation. All the calls. All the tests. I am being prepped for some secret mission. I am going to be The Bionic Woman who has to go undercover on the runways of Paris Fashion Week. It all makes perfect sense now. When is the shopping part?
So tonight life once again intrudes upon my diva persona and I have to vacuum out the couch so my mom does not have to sleep in crumbs and cat hair while waiting on me hand and foot over the next couple days. Then the cat box must be cleaned and bleached so no poo germs frolic in my breathable atmosphere. I also have to drink an inhuman amount of water tonight before my chemo. I truly believe this is actually a plot, a conspiracy of nurses, so that you stay up all night running back and forth to the can and therefore sleep through your chemo out of pure exhaustion thereby allowing them extra smokes breaks. Brilliant, if I do say so.