Wishful Thinking

My delusions of Splenda being devoid of calories and carbohydrates are over now. This morning as I was adding my typical 15 packets of Splenda to my oversized coffee, I noticed in small print on the box it said: “Free” Food = up to 4 packets. WTF? 

For a diabetic, a “free” food is a food that does not have enough carbohydrates to significantly impact your blood sugar. Foods that most definitely do not fit into this category: pasta, ice cream, bread, etc. To me this term is outdated, or should be considered outdated, because “free” implies you can eat as much of the food at you want. Even though steak would technically fall into the category of foods that do not significantly impact your blood sugar, you should not feel “free” to eat as much steak as you want. Same advice for broccoli. Even though it will not significantly impact your blood sugar, if you eat too much of it, you will probably end up farting so much that no one will want to be around you. 

Even though I was applying that common sense to other foods, I ignored it with Splenda. The box just stated something that should have been obvious to me, but it caused me to launch a full investigation. Or at least caused me to look into it.

4 grams of Splenda = 3.6 gm of carbs = 13 calories

1 packet of Splenda is 1 gram

Therefore 15 packets = 13.5 gm of carbs = 48.75 calories

How dare you Splenda! I should have been taking 2 extra units of Novolog insulin for each cup of coffee… or, much more sensibly, been using much less or no Splenda. 

And the calories! Oh God the calories! I try to keep up with all the calories I eat per day using my phone (this is partly a byproduct of keeping up with the carbs I eat to know how much insulin to take with meals). To think of all the extra calories I’ve been taking in unknowingly breaks my heart and fattens my ass.  

Splenda, we might have to discuss a breakup. It will be hard to let go, but you mislead me and now I know how bad for me you really are.  

Oh how I love thee, bed

So many days spent without makeup now that I was worried I forgot how to put it on. So this was just to prove to myself I haven't forgotten:

No lashes but I'm not good with falsies. Don't care anymore.

Too tired to write anything else at all.

ME NO THINK GOOD :-(

“Chemo brain” may sound silly or just made up. It is most definitely real.  “A UCLA study shows that chemotherapy causes changes to the brain's metabolism and blood flow that can linger at least 10 years after treatment. Reported Oct. 5 2006 in the online edition of the journal Breast Cancer Research and Treatment, the findings may help to explain the disrupted thought processes and confusion that plague many chemotherapy patients.” Fantastic…

My little lapses in common sense and basic cognitive functioning used to terrify me but I have gotten accustomed to it after a bit of time. I don’t really care so much that I continue to try to use my car key to get into the house, but not being able to grasp mathematical concepts with I’m working out problems for my business statistics course bothers me a lot. As does my constant use of an entirely different word when typing than the word I intended to use. Like using “and” instead of “about.”

Not that big of a deal maybe, but today I really outdid myself. I decided to try to bake some Brussels sprouts for lunch. I put them in the oven, set the timer, and went into a different room to watch a show on my computer. I got really absorbed in the show, and vaguely remember thinking “What is that annoying beeping noise?” I think my mind grazed over that question about 3 times before I finally thought, “Oh shit!” and I hustled into the kitchen to take the stinky, burned Brussels sprouts out of the oven. If anyone out there loves blackened Brussels sprouts, better call dibs before I throw them away.

Bald Freak

People say stupid shit to me lately and I pretend to overlook it because each time it has been someone who means well deep down. 

I had to go out to the post office a little while back to drop off a package and an elderly man yelled at me in the parking lot, “You getting radiation?” (I was only wearing a skinny skull cap, no pretend hair). “No, chemotherapy” and quickly escaped into air conditioning in car. The old man is not the person I’m talking about when I say “people say stupid shit to me.” When I saw this man (couldn’t have been a day under 90) look over at me, I could sense a question or comment along those lines was coming at me. It was almost as though I could read his mind. Although no stranger has made any comments like that to me up to that point, it did not bother me in the least. I’ve come to expect people his age to say exactly what’s on their mind (which can be refreshing or obnoxious) and he clearly had no malicious intent. I also found that it did not bother me for a stranger to assume I have cancer when I look like I have cancer. The comment that got under my skin came later when I was retelling the uninteresting story of the elderly man just to fill a conversation void with someone I see maybe once or twice a year. “Yeah, you’re not just some bald-headed freak.” Bite your tongue, Mary. Tongue chewed off and swallowed. No words. Lumped in the category of people I would never spend time with if I was not socially obligated. I feel terrible saying that though. I guess I’m an adult now. What’s the proper procedure for handling people who mean well but who look at the world so differently that you? I really do try to be open-minded and try to understand why a person looks at something very differently than I do, but it’s so damn hard when it seems that other person is not willing to do the same. I see so many things in varying shades of gray that it’s hard for me not to be frustrated with people who only seem to see the world as black or white. I won’t go to war over most issues because I’m intensely aware that I could be wrong or I could be arguing over something that really doesn’t have a right or wrong answer. I still don’t know much about what I want out of life but I hope I live my life unafraid of questioning my own assumptions and never fall into the trap of viewing everything in extremes. 

I suppose I went further with that than I intended to. That one comment taken out of the context of all the other offensive comments made by this person may not seem like a big deal to some people. But it’s a shit thing to say to someone going through chemotherapy and I don’t think that a person who is bald by choice is a freak. In fact, I don’t think I really realized before that moment how ugly and hateful that word is. 

Now I’m way too tired to even figure out how I arrived where I did or where I was going to begin with. I need to go to sleep. If I read this tomorrow, I will cringe as though I’m rereading an awkward text I sent after one too many drinks.

Cancer Light/Cancer Heavy

On the worst of the feeling really bad days, my biggest accomplishment is generally taking a shower. I was told at the beginning of chemo that I am now required to shower or bathe daily… as if that wasn’t a personal requirement I had for myself before cancer. 

My oncologist told me that it is actually pretty common for people to gain weight while undergoing chemotherapy treatments. This makes me feel slightly better about the fact that each time I go in for chemo, I’ve gained about a pound. Slightly better but still pissed off about it. 

When I am without my fake hair and I’m wearing my glasses, I kind of look like the dean on the show Community. Not a sexy look, in my opinion. 

Nothing exciting on the agenda for today. No skydiving, no puppy parades, no treasure map to follow, no raves to attend, no murder mystery to solve… I might make a salad for lunch if I’m feeling ambitious. 

Some cancer jokes:

Not a joke, I almost cried:

Blogging 101

I’ve sort of settled into feeling weak, confined, lousy, sickly, and dead tired. It’s the norm now, as I’ve been dealing with cancer for about half of a year. It’s so surreal though that it sort of escapes me at times. I almost forget about cancer. Then it will hit me almost as if it's a big surprise all over. 

Most of my days feel almost identical as time passes. I don’t even battle with cabin fever so much anymore because logic and empirical data reminds me that going out generally leads to feeling terrible and is therefore not worth it in most cases. 

I want the norm to go back to being more… normal. I feel like when this finally happens, something especially wonderful needs to occur. It’s childish but I wish for something to happen that somehow makes up for all the things cancer has taken from me. Everything from the big, like my time and my ovary, to the less significant, like my hair. I don't really know what I expect/want though.

Too tired to write anything coherent.  Maybe I should Google “how to write a decent blog” after a nap.

Buahahahahaha!

Käraste Daniel,

Jag tror att ni verkligen har tappat intresset för våra chattar eftersom du har upptäckt en ny amerikansk tjej som också har cancer. Kanske hon är mer snabbtänkt och rolig än jag? Jag är sorgligt :-(

Med vänliga hälsningar,

Maria

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Дорогой Андрей,

Это письмо, чтобы пожелать вам удачи в ваших поисках, чтобы получить визу и проституток пока ты находитесь в Сингапуре. Я думаю, что ты расстроены со мной, но я не могу себе представить, что причина может быть. Я буду очень благодарен, если ты сообщите мне, потому что мне еще нужно для вас, чтобы исправить мой компьютер.

Искренне Ваша, 

Машенька

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I’m back at the cancer center. I had to be here at 8:45 to get a neulasta shot (immune booster shot) and IV fluids. It is 12:45 now and I’m still here, and it is probably obvious because of the above written letters in languages I don’t actually know that I am very bored now. 

Today the woman to my left was coughing so much that I was afraid if I fell asleep, she would come over and spit in my mouth. Then I would die. Luckily, she is gone now. The guy to my right is so loud and has such horrible grammar that I can’t help but listen to everything he says as I mentally correct him over and over. He says this country has gone to hell and someone needs to take over…. Be careful what you wish for redneck man! Buahahahahaha! I’m also very tired and hungry. :-(

At least these mutts will be waiting for me when I get home: