Hoechemo No Mo: Top Ten Things I Won’t Miss About Chemotherapy—A Very Special Holiday List
10. I will not miss—a veritable top ten list itself—Acyclovir, Lovefloxacin, Fluconazole, Allopurinal, Hydroxazine, Senna S, Ondansetron, Prochlorperazine, Lorazepam and Trazadone. Correction, I will occasionally pine for Lorazepam and Trazadone.
9. I will not miss when poop takes a seemingly permanent vacation in my intestines, or when it suddenly gets sick of vacation and turns the sleepy country road of my toilet into an interstate, or when all the vacationers smell like there KOA was nestled in an unkempt litter box, or that I can actually fart like a woopie cushion—all the time. In summation, my butt has moves like Jagger, and it’s time for this Rolling Stone to retire.
8. I will not miss the neuropathy and swelling in my hands. This one was unexpected and strange—like tiny paper cuts all over my fingers. When flipping a light switch makes me wince, the light bulb in my chemo brain goes on. And while I haven’t had to ask Aura to do it for me yet, buttoning my pants has presented challenges. Speaking of Aura, my wedding ring is now something of a permanent fixture, even though it already was. In the end, the neuropathy never stopped me from grabbing a hold on life—cue angelic voices.
7. I will not miss gaining thirty pounds in four months. While I did, at first, appreciate the license to gorge myself on the heavier meats, fried anythings, ice creams and popcorns of the American diet, it’s not cool to eat them just to down play the reprehensible taste chemotherapy leaves in your mouth, and the constant nausea. I’m not sure if I actually received this license anyway…I may have mistranslated, “Now is not the time to diet,” into “oh yeah…gorge yourself. Definitely. With Gravy. And sauce. Fry it. Fry anything. Fry it so hard. And most importantly…eat out. Always.”
6. I will not miss, for a second, the lack of energy. Ping Pong has become the central component of my cardiovascular exercise. My bike and my basketball shoes are dusty. I would read The Reader more often, if it was available on my side of Damen Ave. Crossing the street without necessity was totally pre-cancer luxury. I also anticipate the exchange of the absolute necessity of sleeping for nine hours with the luxurious choice to sleep for nine hours. I anticipate the exchange of vast amounts of new ideas and possibilities for research and reading and movie making, for the ability to pick the best from that list, and make it happen.
5. To couple off that, I will not miss the lack of time. Being unhealthy adds a healthy 20-30 hours to your weekly routine. Coupled with the previously mentioned lack of energy, you now have a recipe for disaster. I missed summer, fall and winter this year. Every component of your life gets robbed. I rob from Peter to pay Paul, and that ain’t Biblical. I rob from Cultivate Studios to pay my bed…a visit. I rob from Aura to keep my Netflix queue fluid. I rob from phone calls to friends to make phone calls to my Mom, or no phone calls at all. My inbox is flooded with kind words from friends that haven’t been returned. I will not miss not committing. Or uncommitting. I can’t wait to move from maybe to definitely. As it is now, I’m in…definitely.
4. I will not miss being grounded in Chicago. In 2012, post radiation of course, you will not be able to catch up with my Travelocity. I miss the road, the sky, new places and unfamiliar faces. It’s time to dust off my fanny pack and my safari hat, and embarrass myself in the presence of strangers instead of neighbors.
3. I will not miss the concern of friends and family. While receiving their care and attention is pretty neat (read indispensible), I think I’m ready for giving some care and attention instead. Even more than that, I’m just ready to move cancer from the foreground of conversation to the back forty of memory.
2. I will not miss crying more in one year than I have in the rest of my life. Excluding infancy. And junior high. May I be well equipped for radiation. Hopefully, I’ve learned a thing or two.
1. I will not miss Chemotherapy. I will not receive any more chemotherapy. I refuse it. Call it a resolution and kiss my ass 2011! Time for a drink…
