Well, it’s over. Sort of. In terms of how they name my cycles and the severity of drug side effects, the worst of my chemo is OVER. And these last few days (as I’ve been rallying myself constantly) are the low point physiologically EVER.
Here is what my stomach looks like after 8 Cytarabine shots. You can tell how many platelets I have on a given day based on how big the bruise is. The tiny bruise is about 120 platelets, the medium is 89, and the huge ugly one is 10. The rest of look like little pin pricks because I was over 200.
I am starting to feel better. The blood yesterday was great. I worry about my white count a lot and my body seems to be running what I have started calling “mock fevers.” It will start with chills and body aches, followed by a spike where the soles of my feet and palms burn, and then the break when I start to sweat profusely. Yet through all of this, my temperature remains under 99 degrees. Today my face and head have been burning up all day. If you were to feel my forehead, you might say “Holy Smokes! You’re hot!” You would be right on so many levels. I look kind of feverish, but I’m 98 degrees.
So it’s obvious by now what a lying, hypocritical, asshole Sarah Palin is. I hate politics. I hate that there are so many logical and ethical things to nail her with and people still default to misogyny. I hate that I’ve gotten two emails already authored by democratic men, urging me to be a good feminist and do something anti-Palin. Like, “if you’re really a feminist, you’ll realize what a terrible person Sarah Palin is and do what I and all these entitled, white, ‘progressive’ men tell you to do.” Not that men aren’t allowed to be part of the feminism discourse or that many men aren’t better feminists than Sarah Palin, but the whole paradigm is so disgustingly masculine (in the bad way,) paternalistic and condescending I could barf. And I’ve been barfing a lot lately.
3 years ago