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Fickle

August 27, 2013

I am grateful to have people care enough about me to ask about my well-being.  When I tell them that I’m on a chemo-type drug, they look as if I drowned their puppy.  I try to cheer them up by telling them how much I love chemo.  I do, I really do.  I didn’t want to take this drug  because of the unpleasant side effects (nausea, vomiting, possible hair loss, liver damage), but now I am so so so glad that I did.  The nausea and vomiting only lasted a few weeks, the hair loss is minimal, and I get tested regularly for liver damage.  Before I took the drugs, I was in constant pain and was really worried about my future.  On a scale of 1 to 10, I was probably at a 4 and sliding down to a 3.  Once the drugs kicked in, I was feeling great and was between an 8 and 9.  Even with my setbacks this summer, my bad days dip me to a low 8.  I have a pretty good life now.  If the drugs don’t work forever, I at least  had a chance to life a mostly normal life for a while.

When I say that I love chemo, I mean it.

I know the difference between being really sick (sick with Relapsing Polychondritis) and being miserably sick (sick with a cold or a stomach bug).  Knowing that difference doesn’t make me less whiny when I get a cold.  I have had this darn cold for about 10 days now and it has really disrupted my life.  I am away on a business trip and taking cold medicine like it’s my job.  I’m trying to save my voice and keep from turning into Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  So far, it’s working pretty well.

I love cold medicine.

Yes, I’m fickle.

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