The Cancer Chronicles #1: Goddamned Fucking Fatigue

It’s been about two years since I’ve received my last chemo treatment, but the hits just keep on comin’! Two brutal winters, two gloriously hot, hot, hot summers, fevers, anemia, iron infusions, pneumonia, remission, stage 1, bone marrow tests, PET Scans, remission, fevers, stage 1, B Cells, post chemo hair loss, fatigue, fatigue, fatigue.

When I say that i’m tired, I don’t mean that I didn’t sleep well last night. It means that I’m tired. Goddamned fucking town to the marrow in my bones tired. Exhaustion. Sleep does not elude me. I can sleep for days.

Really.

Days.

Having an almost seven year old darling girl is hard. I want to have energy for her. I want to want to play dolls. I play dolls and all I think about is my big comfy bed in the next room. I look at the clock over and over and over again. I hired a “Mommy’s Helper”. A cute nineteen year old girl who probably spends her cash earned on bags of pot and pregnancy tests, but she’s good. She’s reliable and my girl loves her. A lot. So much, in fact, that I’ve been getting jealous.

Which brings me to today. The school’s annual “Boo-Bash.” A big ol’ Halloween party to generate tons of cash for all of the luxuries that other New York City public schools just don’t have. Chess lessons, a fully updated and beautiful computer lab, yoga,  tennis, classroom libraries. Good shit. My friends’ kids don’t go to schools with all of these extra goodies. So, this school is constantly throwing parties, auctions, bake sales, flower sales, and of course asking for good ol’ fashioned cash in an envelope.

Back to the Boo Bash. My Mommy’s Helper offered to take my girl, but I declined her offer. I need to do Mommy stuff with her before she’s screaming “Fuck You!” at me before slamming her door. I don’t want to go. I’m fucking dreading it. I want to curl up in my bed and doze off until bedtime. My daughter is running around in her Cheerleading costume. The bash doesn’t start until 5 PM and I already feel like it’s midnight. I’ve called my oncologist three times in the past couple of weeks because of this paralyzing fatigue and he tells me I need a PET scan.

Sigh.

At least I can catch a nap on the subway ride there.

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The Sound of Silence

After a crazy week with a sick daughter, several doctor appointments, a growing pile of laundry, a Friday morning rendezvous, and a very late ex-husband picking up my daughter for his weekend, I closed the door and…silence.

I do love silence. I admit, on the weekends my daughter is with my ex, I close the door and I breathe it in. Deeply. I don’t know what was wrong with me today, but for once, I didn’t like it. It wasn’t relaxing or serene.

It was lonely.

I turned on the television and tried to find a program to fall asleep to. But I couldn’t. I walked from room to room, picking up this and that, folding clothing, feeling restless, but mostly alone.

Thinking I would fall asleep, I turned on the “Do Not Disturb” function on my phone, but it didn’t matter, because like my home, my phone was silent too. No texts, no calls.

It was lonely.

I tried to distract myself. I have a million things to do, but I couldn’t finish anything. My mind was wandering. I was exhausted, but not tired. It’s close to midnight here in Brooklyn and I’ve been up since 7:30, spent the day with a rambunctious child, took a chill pill and while my body is exhausted and my head hurts and my lack of iron should make me doze off at any given moment, I can’t relax.

It’s the silence.

I don’t like it today.

I’ve always been a loner and I enjoy my own company, but today I wanted noise. Not jackhammer noise, more like the clinking of glasses or the sound of my daughter splashing in the tub or a conversation with a good friend. I’ll admit, it was a little depressing.

Tonight I’ll go to sleep without setting my alarm and tomorrow will be another lovely day in Brooklyn and I know I’ll feel a million times better than I do at this moment, but right now, I can only try to explain how I feel, because it’s new. A new feeling. And not a very good one.

I think I feel silent. And empty. And it will pass. I know it will. And as much as I love the sound of silence, today I do not like it at all.

A feeling I’ve never felt before.

Too Tired to Blog

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I have three drafts calling my name and a guest blog I still need to finish for LittleMissLola , but I’m too tired to blog. I can’t keep my thoughts in one place. After my insane daily schedule last week (think four doctor appointments in two days,) single Mommying for five days in row and running around Brooklyn all day today, sixty pounds of laundry–I own so much clothing, I can go weeks without doing a wash, it’s a sin, really. Can you imagine my shoes and makeup collection? With all of the starving children in the world, I should be absolutely ashamed. I’m going to hell. But, I digress, I am just too tired to blog.

Please forgive me.

I think I’m going to watch “True Romance” and drift off to sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow, refreshed and revived and ready to complete “The Departed: Part II (Kurt loves Courtney)” a fantastic update on my cancer and maybe a post about how being a single Mom can drain the shit out of you. But for now, I rest.

“The nicest thing for me is sleep. Then at least I can dream.” –Marilyn Monroe

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