Trixieland

words about words

First of all, this round of chemo can kiss my ass. Just in the last couple of days have I been able to eat meals, and it’s time to do chemo again. As each round gets progressively shittier, I will not be surprised if the awful nausea/gross taste lasts the full three weeks between rounds. Pissed …

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Okay, it may be a bit early to call this a “round-up,” but I couldn’t resist the alliteration. I really really need to get back to work on my book. Here’s the pattern that’s emerging with me and chemo: Day 1: Get chemo. My spirits are good and I feel pretty normal. Day 2: Go …

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My oncology office is becoming like Cheers for me. I walk in and everyone’s happy to see me. My 19-year-old daughter Callahan accompanied me for my second round of chemo and I’m pleased to report that my master plan to encourage her interest in health care is totally working. She’s registering at Bellevue College in …

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I haven’t felt much like blogging, and I thought about apologizing for the delay, but you know what? Fuck it. Here are my words about what’s what. The Nausea I felt really good the last time I posted and I assumed that things would improve each day afterward. That wasn’t exactly how it worked. On …

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It’s been a full week since my first chemo treatment, so I’m going to dish the details on what it feels like. And it’s not going to be pretty. Rather than engage in image-crafting or build some kind of Trixiebrand, I’m just going to put it all out there. It might make you uncomfortable, and …

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Well, I did it! Got through my very first chemo session! Honestly, it was a breeze. The first one was long (5 hours), since I had to do long doses of my targeted therapy (Perjeta and Herceptin) for the HER2+ flavor of my cancer. But the next five rounds will only be 3 hours each. Basically, …

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I wanted to write this post last week, but was feeling too Percocet-y. And now I find that I am reluctant to put words to it. I don’t have any especially staggering news to report. As expected, the cancer has spread to my lymph nodes. Four of them, according to Buffy the Cancer Slayer. Which …

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I guess maybe I thought it would be a one-and-done kind of thing. “Allison, Mommy has cancer. But the doctor will fix me.” “Okay, Mommy.” *skips off to play* Well, it didn’t go quite like that. And it was just the first of many conversations. I felt like I had to warn her about my …

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I have always hated my hair. It’s curly, for one thing. And growing up in the 1980s, curly meant frizzy. We didn’t have flatirons or smoothing serum or special no-poo shampoo that didn’t dry out your locks. The only weapon I had against frizz growing up was letting my hair air-dry instead of blowdrying it. …

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It’s my second visit to the oncologist, Dr. Cappuccino. My husband and daughter are with me, and I’ve got my Binder of Doom tucked under my arm. It’s filled with all my shit: insurance approvals, notes, bills, etc. I say hello to the lady in reception. I call her Harley because she has a Harley …

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