YakYakYak

I guess I've been grousing quite a bit lately. It's real enough, but it doesn't paint the full picture of my days. I go to work and get stuff done and laugh & laugh -- NM is a laugher, and CN is fodder for hilarity if I've ever seen it. Along with NM I laugh more at work than anyone else. People wander by and tell me (half-jokingly) to get back to work, or they wished that THEY were having such a good day, etc. Whatever. So I have a pretty good time at work, and then there's Eric at home. Eric at home is the icing on the cake, and the cake, and the cake plate.

Still, these days aren't my favorite among days. I'm trying to do things I know will help. I'll probably... probably... feel better when I chop off my hair this weekend. Keeping it though this week is pushing it, and the falling hair is hard to manage.

It makes me feel defeated. If I was a poster child for cancer five years ago, I was in that group that I was fighting to be "cured". Now I'm just some dying wretch, with no good answers for the inevitable questions. How long will your treatment last? I've gotten that one already.

What can the doctors do for you?

I've been prepping people at work for my hair loss, and they have lots o' questions about cancer. They're nice, and they're fearful. I have to explain things a few times ... that breast cancer is still breast cancer, even when it's in your bones. How it gets there. Why they can't just make it go away.

At lunch yesterday I had a disagreement with a woman about chemotherapy. She felt that my current treatment is NOT chemotherapy, and wouldn't be dissuaded. Eventually I just gave up with a shrug. It doesn't matter.

This is the boringest blog entry ever.

Somehow this blog ended up on an online list of resources for women with breast cancer -- for women seeking information and support. This is a very bad idea.

If you're one of those women: Welcome! I'd be delighted to have you stay... but this is just one person's story, and she's been grousing quite a bit lately.

I'm off to work!