Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Yes, I'm still here...

I realized that I haven't posted since the end of October, and then realized that it's probably because I do all of my ranting to one poor friend who gets it all...

So, copy/paste and here's what was on my mind tonight...

Tomorrow is the stupid Patricia Show support group. Probably too much to hope that my dr will be able to be there. I'm feeling really pissed off about the group as I lie here drying off after my night-before shower and hair washing, thinking about how much I need a support group that is better than this one and counting the times that I have to shower and wash my hair each month so that I can get dressed and go to appointments. I feel weak and heavy and tired. I'm depressed again ans can barely muster interest or effort, and it's obviously anti-hormonal cancer medication depression, but hopefully it means the Faslodex is indeed nixing all my estrogen as it should, since the only time I have felt good in the past two 1/2 yrs (other than the trips with friends, obviously) was while on Aromasin which did not work.

I am really having a little pity party here tonight! My shoulder hurts and I'm thinking I hope it's mets and not a side-effect because I'm so sick of pain and discomfort from treatment, and how 'people' don't take side effects seriously, so if I'm going to feel like crap anyway, let it be from the actual disease and not the treatment.

I'm thinking of wearing my taffeta skirt tomorrow, tulle petticoat and all, because it's all still out from Sunday. But with heavy makeup and bright lipstick. Maybe I should get some black lipstick. Am I too old to adopt the Goth look and attitude? I'm not piercing anything though. Maybe a fake tattoo.

My feet are swollen too. That's enough to make anyone cranky. I wonder if I still have my black boots in the closet. That outfit needs black boots.

I think I'm dry. Now the chore and effort of undies and jammies...and then after all this exhaustive personal hygiene I probably still won't be able to sleep.