Hate To Break It To You, But Girls Do Poo

10 days after my first chemotherapy infusion and I’m still feeling uneasy. It’s difficult to articulate while keeping it within the realm of understanding for the mere mortals that roam the earth aimlessly. I really don’t know what the fuck that is to mean, I wrote it yesterday and kinda like it. Just need to bring it back home for the point and score.  I can say it is not the puke fest I imagined it would be.

Some days it feels as if I’ve given birth to a potato…the chemolaced poos are no joke….goddammit….don’t say you’ve never felt that relief of dropping a deuce so solid it brought a tear to your face…[insert crying emoticon here]….I know you have….at least one time….I once smelled a chemo-poo & thought I’d smelled death….That fucker lingered for hours…Seriously, it was so putrid. I had no idea smells like that could be emitted from the human body. And no, it was not mine. At that moment in time, I could only hope to never have to endure that in the bathroom, well guess what, little miss TC chemo regimen, your poo smells like death.  And other days, it feels like my ass is vomiting…oh joy….fuck….I know  this is a lot to digest in this paragraph…So moving on….

Do you know what happens to a five year old & a pair of scissors left unattended for four 1/2 minutes? He gives himself a Dwight Shrute. No shit, my sweet baboo looks like Dwight from The fucking Office, poor fucker. lol We’ve yet to fix his head. It’s actually not that bad if you comb it over just right. [insert winky-face emoticon] Mr. Badboob cut and colored my hair crazy cool purples& blues one last time before it all falls out last night. We really should fix little Badboob’s Shrute too.

Tomorrow I’ll go to the plastic surgeon for expander fill #3. I think I’ll try 95 units cc with this fill. First was 100, and way too fucking much. Second, was 90 and I still felt relatively normal. Though it’s strange as fuck watching the expander fill before your eyes. Boom. Instant tits. Well, pecs at least, but it’s instant. I’m not sure how others feel, but I feel big and boxing and still clumsy as fuck. Chemo Brain. Lol. That’s a funny term. It’s given because the chemo drugs make you forgetful too. But if you’re also on a regimen of shit, you’re going to be forgetful . So there’s that.

The power port has finally settled itself the fuck down. Thank fuck. It’s still irritating as hell, but tolerable. The 26th will be my second chemo infusion session. This one should not last the four hours first one did, only about two hours, they say.

Not only is chemo excreted through your saliva & waste kids, it’s also released through your skin. Welp guess what kids? I’ve had bad fucking skin since I was 9. No lie. Every motherfucking school picture of me from Pre-K to graduation, there is a fever blister or pimple of some form or another glaring back at me, preserved forever. Gotta love that Scott/Irish blood, eh?  Goddammit, the last thing I want to be walking around with a boxy uneven chest, bald head and massive fucking pimples on my face at 42.

Oh , did I mention the nose bleeds and mouth sores yet? I feel like Tom Hanks in Philadelphia with my bloody post nasal drip and scratchy Demi Moore voice.

 

 

 

 

 

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