Playing With Words

It's funny... I actually got back my drive to write in this thing months ago. I'm back to being social. The overwhelming drama of wtfery is becoming much less overwhelming and I've been in a pretty good mood. There's just one problem.

In order to write about life... well... you kind of need to have one.

I've always been that person who did too much. Shan's given me hell about this for longer than I can remember. Hell... my very first character in roleplaying (who was basically me with better hair) had that oh-so-lovely character flaw. I just don't slow down. Ever.

Except, for the past several months, slow is all I've been.

Things are starting to pick up. I started classes last week, beginning the long journey towards getting my masters degree, and I really am excited, especially for the Nonfiction Writing class. I'm thinking Rhetorical Criticism will possibly kill me, but it will be an exciting death, at least. And it's nice to really stretch, mentally. I love teaching. There's no job I'd rather do. But there's a reason that I'm embarrassed to admit I'm an elementary education major in academic circles. Very rarely are we challenged to step up to do real, in depth research and study. It's nice stepping up and proving that, even if this isn't a standard part of my job, I'm capable... and pretty damn good at it. Or, at least, I'm hoping I will be. Otherwise this semester will be rough.

Outside of school, though, there's really not much.

Sure, there's the burning resentment towards my lovely previous district. I'll admit, there are still a few choice gestures that happen when I pass by the school at night, and it will be a long time before I can look back on these past three years in any positive light...but even that's become rather quiet.

I think that will change when I start trying to broaden my network of connections again. Right now I can ignore how much I miss teaching because I have a different focus and nothing is reminding me of what I left behind. Soon, though, I need to step back into the mix. I need to stay involved in the field so I have a chance of being hired next year.

Walking back into a classroom that isn't mine... knowing it'll be at least a year until I have that again?

I'll be honest... I'm scared.

I didn't want to start over. But I guess that's the name of the game. The hand was dealt. Now I've just got to play along as best I can.

I'm sick again... a nasty little cold that makes my head cloudy and saps my energy. Oddly enough, I don't mind it so much.

Not that this is fun. I'll be happy when I'm stronger and I can breathe clearly again. But for all that being sick sucks, it's amazing how different this "sick" feels from chemo "sick."

It's nice knowing that, this time, it's no mystery fever. No drug-induced nausea. It's just a cold. Annoying, common place, harmless cold.

I can live with that.

It's funny... this is my last week of chemo. The last treatment I will ever have to go through. But even though Taxol (this last round of drugs) has been so much easier on me than Adriamycin (the first round) ever was, I'm more tired.

Maybe it's because so much is going on this week. We've got curriculum night tomorrow at the Barnes & Noble. I'm hosting a write-in at the same time. It's the last week of this rotation, which means preparing for a new group of kids on Monday. And then I've got 3 doctors' appointments in the next 4 days, which means sub plans need to be made for all the days I have to take off. Add in NaNoWriMo and it's a pretty full docket.

I'm also tired because, up until now, the focus has been on getting through chemo. I figured, if I could just reach the end, that was enough. And it is. Except, now, I get to see how much my body can recover from the process I've just put it through. I've been just surviving. Now I'm hoping I can get back to normal.

Chemo had all these risks... 1% chance of leukemia. 10% (or hopefully less) chance of damaging my reproductive system beyond repair. Chances of heart problems... of nerve damage... of permanent hair loss. They're all small chances, but they're possible. During chemo, there was no point in worrying about them. It was the safest road, it needed to be done, and worrying about it wouldn't affect the outcome one way or the other.

Now it's time to see how it all turns out. It becomes the waiting game. Wait and see if we got it all. Wait and see if there are any long term complications. Just wait and see.

I suppose it's no wonder I'm tired. I can see now why my doctor was surprised that I was going to continue teaching. I'm glad I did... but God... I'm so ready for Christmas Break.

That said... there's still no point in worrying. What will be will be (Que sera, sera, anyone?). And there's one thing I know for sure...

I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

It's 4:30 in the morning.

I'm shivering and dying of thirst, my temperature just spiked to 101 degrees, and I'm think that just about figures.

Mom's on her way to take me to the hospital.

I'm really wishing I could warm up, right now.

Chemo has a fun, new side effect for me... Hot flashes! That's right, I'm now experiencing (at 24) that coveted physiological response that is normally reserved for women over 45. Go me!

Actually, in its own way, it's kinda helpful. My school is always freezing. Most of the people in my hallway don jackets about half way through the day, just trying to stay warm. Me? I'm standing under the air vent (which is still blasting cold air, despite the fact that it's mid October), trying to cool down.

Of course, it's less fun at night when it wakes me up, but that's another matter.

Another treatment starts tomorrow. This time I'll take my meds as prescribed and we'll hopefully avoid all the wild and crazy reactions. Just think... as of this time tomorrow, I'll only have two more treatments to go. I can be excited for that. :D

I'm trying to make a decision. My NaNo kids are starting to ask why I'm gone so much. Some of them had me last year or last rotation, when I was absent a lot, so they already remember this as an odd trend. They're also more connected to me than my normal classes because we spend so much time writing after school. I'm not sure whether I should tell them the reason or not. I've kept it quiet with my normal classes because it'll just add complications... lots of questions and attention and it'll need to be repeated when I get the next group of kids. But my writers are a different bunch. We'll be working together for the next 3 months (well, 2 1/2). Should I let them know what's going on, or keep hedging? I'm not sure.

This weekend was fantastic! As upset as I was about having to skip a treatment, it was nice to have a week with no symptoms. No mouth sores. No sickness. Plenty of energy. I took full advantage of it.

Saturday was a trip out to Naperville for food and fun with the roomies. Mandie was fabulous and passed her ridiculously hard English Masters test (with distinction, even) and we felt her genius deserved some celebrating. Then Sunday was a trip out to Willowbrook Ballroom for some Italian food and Swing Dancing.

Now, I've never gone swing dancing in my life, so I was a bit wary... but my partner was a terrific conversationalist and a very good teacher. I had a blast, and it seemed he was pretty happy too, even though I did fall on my butt once. Me and my two left feet. But, still, I had a great time.

This week, with the new rotation of kids, has gone fairly well. A few of my classes are squirrely and my administrators turned our schedules on their heads for yet another round of testing, but I made it through.

Then today happened.

Seriously, my luck (or lack thereof) is ridiculous. I went in for chemo. Everything looked good, so we started my first treatment of taxol. The nurse was in the middle of asking me questions when, suddenly, I didn't feel so good. I told her, and she immediately ran off to get a basin... not realizing that it wasn't just nausea. Fractions of a second later I started feeling dull muscle pain across my shoulders, followed by rapid tightening in my chest. It was like someone was sitting on me. I started calling out to her "Trouble breathing. Trouble breathing!" until she ran to get a nurse.

Needless to say, they immediately stopped treatment. Turns out the Decadron that they prescribed me last week was to help prevent such reactions as these. Now, this is partially my fault, as I should have filled the prescription and taken it last night as directed. However, I was under the impression that the steroid was another anti-nausea med, since that's what I used it for during the Adriamycin. I knew they were giving me a much larger dose this time, but they also said they were doing everything they could to tamp down my nausea for this round, so I had no reason to think otherwise. When I realized my mistake, I figured I would just fill the prescription today, take it later, and it would be fine. Once again, failure to communicate caused another complication.

I really wish things would stop going wrong. I really wish my doctors would stop witholding information and keep me abreast of what's going on with my treatments and what the various drugs are needed for. And I really wish that this particular mess wasn't my fault, because I SHOULD have filled that prescription earlier. I know that. But with everything else going on, I didn't make it a priority like I should have and this is the end result. I'm frustrated with my doctors and with myself and I'm tired of it all.

We're trying again tomorrow. I'm scared the decadron won't work and I'll have another reaction. Then I don't know what we'll do... but all we can do is try. I'm following my directions now and trying to hope for the best. I just need hope to stop being so scarce.

"This isn't the Matrix. Don't tell me to choose between the blue pill and the red pill without telling me what they do."

It's two days after treatment. I woke up early (my body just won't let me sleep very long anymore), and I'm a bit queasy... but, honestly, this is the best I've felt so soon after an Adriamycin shot. Hands down. I was even amazed yesterday. The day after treatment I was able to survive the 3 hour drive to Champaign (thanks to my wonderful mother driving), a wedding rehearsal, and I even ate half of the rehearsal dinner (well, okay... maybe closer to a quarter), all without feeling miserable. My energy level is low, but I'll take that over extreme nausea any day.

Again, I'm a bit irked with my doctors. The only thing that's changed with this treatment is that I insisted on them giving me Zofran for my nausea. They wouldn't do it last time because they swore up and down that it wouldn't help me. This time they gave in, but told me it would be useless until the fourth day after treatment. Apparently the Alloxy in my cocktail is the same drug as the Zofran, and it stays in my system for 3 days. They figured it wouldn't help to give me the same drug again if it wasn't working the first time.

What do you know? I take a Zofran the morning after... just in case it can help... and it's the best I've felt in ages. Maybe it's a placebo effect. Maybe the Alloxy just needed an extra boost. But, either way, I'm wishing they'd given this to me earlier, after we learned the Compazine wasn't going to work. It would have made the last two treatments so much easier. Le sigh.

Well, what's done is done. Either way, this was my final Adriamycin shot. That, all in its own right, is a reason to celebrate. Maybe I'll be able to survive this wedding after all. :)

I've been trying to be peppy and positive today, but it seems that the best I can manage is bitchy and cynical. If my life was a horror movie this would be great news, as the cheerleaderesque chic always dies a terrible, bloody death... but, really, I was hoping for more of a romantic comedy.

Physical updates are less than happy. I was actually sick. Thankfully, it was/is just a cold and it seems to be clearing up. Of course, it made my day when I walked into the classroom to hear one of my students say "Wow... you look even sicker than last week, Ms. Justice!" Great... Thanks, dear. Just what I wanted to hear. I also seem to have developed mouth sores. Nothing visible, but my tongue feels like I just chewed on a mouthful of razors. Or ate too many kiwis. Same difference. Either way, it's unpleasant and painful and makes eating a chore.

Damned if I'm going to let this ruin my night, though. I just bought some horribly unhealthy fast food (sorry, Dad), and I plan on watching a movie while I rip inappropriate ads out of magazines (for classroom reasons. What were you thinking?). If I feel real crazy, I might even break out the sparkling wine that Corinne bought two days ago.

Homework Attack! Goodness... why is it that everything has to always fall at once. Say hello lab presentation, group projects for Children's Lit and Language Arts/Social Studies methods. Say hello argumentitive piece and writer's research project for Advanced writing. Say goodbye life.

Oh yeah... Halloween... and I think one of my friends is attempting to set me up with someone... not a very welcome thought right now. Or, if he isn't trying, he's at least managed to get some random one of his friends who I don't know to email me telling me how glad he is that he's going to meet me. Still not very welcome. Well... hopefully it'll just be me overreacting. I hate doing that, but at least that means there isn't really a problem.

Though, on the up side, my sister might be coming down on Saturday. She said she couldn't miss hanging out with everyone at the costume party. Needless to say (but I'll say anyway) I'm excited. I just hope it works out. It'd be easier if she had a car. lol.

The pain from the root canal went away, and my grades are looking better. Hmm.. praises. These should be first, not last on my list. There are a lot of really wonderful things going on (I almost said stuff... but that wouldn't be right, would it?) and I need to focus on them more. So, yay for medication!

Though I still say I should have taken the Vicaden... stupid classes...