Cancer log 146: Three…

Cancer log 146: Three brief notes:

- it is perhaps unreasonable to want to snap at the oncologist about the annoying numbness in my right fingertip when she has just SAVED MY LIFE, but it is human to be cranky, and I imagine she is used to it and far worse. Do you know which finger you use all the time with today's modern touchscreens and trackpads? I bet you do.

- I had to buy a new bra yesterday because the underwire in my regular bra was rubbing raw a spot near the lymph node scar; I think the radiation is finally having a skin irritation effect, so I will be dutifully slathering on the Aquaphor. Going to Victoria's Secret's pink emporium was surreal post-lumpectomy; that's going to need its own post, along with the rest of the sex post-cancer-treatment conversation, but am not quite ready to write it yet. Soon.

- one of the radiation oncologists mentioned in the weekly exam that my weight had held steady, which was good, and I said something off-handedly about how I wouldn't mind losing a few pounds (because I am a woman in America and apparently I must compulsively voice an opinion about my need to lose weight periodically no matter how many body acceptance posts I read and write). She looked at me, startled, and said I didn't need to lose any weight. And I guess cancer doctors have bigger things on their minds than a few pounds one way or another, but I have to say, this is the first time in my adult life that a doctor has told me I didn't need to lose weight, and it was nice.

Tomorrow, radiation + blood work & Herceptin. I am, unsurprisingly, cranky anticipating the needle stick, but soothed by the prospect of spending a couple of hours playing Terraria. I appear to have picked up a new video game compulsion. My relatives can get takeout if I don't get around to cooking Christmas dinner, right? Right.

1 thought on “Cancer log 146: Three…”

  1. Everytime, I come here to read your posts, I learn to understand the immense and overwhelming beauty of human acceptance through endurance and vibrance. Thinking of you with love, Mary Anne. x

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