Submitted by avivarubin on Sat, 11/23/2013 - 14:30
The waiting is the hardest part. That’s what many people have told me. It’s the not knowing that’s intolerable.
Submitted by avivarubin on Thu, 11/21/2013 - 17:59
I can feel myself getting more anxious. My back went out in a restaurant bathroom this afternoon. Tomorrow I have my appointments at 10:30 am with Lymphoma, and 1:30 pm with Head and Neck cancer.
Submitted by avivarubin on Mon, 11/18/2013 - 10:50
The waiting rooms are packed. So many people waiting for treatments. Waiting for blood work, to tell them they are healthy enough for more toxins. Waiting for news. Waiting to crumple to the floor in the presence of a stranger. Waiting to have that last optimistic fragment of "benign", shattered. Waiting to step away from everything familiar. Waiting. No reading. Just peeing for distraction.
Submitted by avivarubin on Sat, 11/16/2013 - 14:48
It couldn’t just be simple.
Every time the phone rings and it says Private Caller, I panic. I suspect I’ll have this Pavlovian response for the rest of my life. (The rest of my life... but that's another story.)
Submitted by avivarubin on Thu, 11/14/2013 - 11:56
I've been feeling racey lately and I’m starting to think it might be anxiety. (Yes, starting.) Not head anxious, like the kind where you keep saying to yourself “Boy, I really feel anxious”, but body anxious.
Submitted by avivarubin on Mon, 11/11/2013 - 16:32
My Sunday was all over the place.
Submitted by avivarubin on Sun, 11/10/2013 - 13:30
For the three weeks leading up to the great news in the shitty news department (GNISND), I was almost never alone. I had cancer tinnitus and the only thing that lowered the volume was chatter and Ativan.
After my brother got tinnitus on a flight home from the Soviet Union, decades (obviously) ago, he carried around a radio and could only fall asleep to the static between stations.
Submitted by avivarubin on Fri, 11/08/2013 - 06:19
I have a bucket list of fears I’m looking to empty. I don’t have room for them all right now. I probably wasn’t meant to use the bucket this way, but it is my bucket. One of the fears that up until recently lay glowing at the bottom of the pile, was radiation. Hypochondriacs should never work on radiation protocol taskforces.
Submitted by avivarubin on Mon, 11/04/2013 - 15:39
It’s CANCER. I can’t tell the whole story now. It will come out in bits, as I piece together the space junk (think Bullock and Clooney in Gravity) that was the last four weeks of my (really?) life. Spoiler – I have indolent cancer. Lazy. The kind, my friend Bob says, lies around on the couch watching TV all day. No. Don’t get up. Just hold onto that remote. I’ll get you some chips.