You're like a screen flashing insufficient funds.
Cops knocking when the party's just begun.
You're a big rain cloud parked over my boat.
You're a cell phone splashing in my coffee cup.
A fumble on the one when my team was going up.
You're like brakes on my brain and all I know...
It's funny how things work out sometimes. I was just sitting here thinking I needed to write a post about having a second port placed today but I hadn't heard a song that was working for me. Then right on cue Buzz Kill came on the radio. Boy, ain't it the truth?
Ever since my mastectomy people have been asking me how I feel and telling me I look good. I always tell them, "Well that's because they haven't given me the 'cure' yet." It's true too. I feel fantastic, like my normal self. I have energy. My color is good. My appetite is always great. I have hair. What more could a girl ask for?
But I've known for sometime that this day was coming. After my first chemo regimen I wanted that port out that day. I asked, "Can I get this out the same day?' It didn't hurt or anything but it just symbolized that I was still in the treatment phase. I wanted my hair back that day too but I knew I couldn't make that happen so getting that port out was big.
I've known a few people who have told me they kept their ports in for years. Besides the fact that my doctor wouldn't allow that, I wouldn't want that either. I don't know why my friends kept their ports, they said because they wanted to know it was there if they needed it. To me it had to go. I didn't want to keep the fear that close. Removing the port was the first step in moving away from chemo and cancer. I'd hate to wake up each morning and see it there in the mirror or feel it as I reached to scratch my shoulder. Why on earth would I want to think about cancer like that everyday?
Getting the port today means that soon I won't be able to pretend I'm OK. I'll start feeling sick again. I'll lose my hair. I'll be tired all day every day for the next few months. There won't be any way to hide it any longer. So, today is kind of the first day of my chemo buzz kill. I'm going to have to wait a bit to "get the party started." But I know that day will come too.
You're a buzzkill every time you come around.
Those beers might as well have been poured out.
Why are you still showing up and bringing me down?
Why do I keep letting you get to me
And mess up what that's not what's gonna be?
You walk right by crashing my high like I know you will
You little buzzkill. Baby, you're a buzzkill.
BuzzKill
dear maria,
ReplyDeletei hope all went well with the new port being implanted. i am sending you healing vibes and hope that as you approach more treatment you will have wonderful support, and that it will soften the buzz kill blues. just know that i am thinking of you, and that you are not alone.
love, xo
karen, TC
Hi, Karen Glad you could see this post. Not sure what was going on with the other one. I did get the port and it was a buzzkill because they were so slow and didn't put me under the same way as before. (I went to a different hospital) But that is all behind me. I had my first treatment with the Gemcitabine and Carboplatin yesterday. That went just fine so fingers crossed, it will be better than ACT. Thanks again for staying in touch. How are you? And what has you interested in BC?
ReplyDeletehi maria,
ReplyDeleteso glad the port is in (BUT WHY OH, WHY, NO GOOD DRUGS? - A BUZZ KILL, for sure). and i am very happy that you got through the 1st chemo session so well; often it seems if one does well with the 1st infusions, the rest will go just fine, too.
i was diagnosed with ST IV metastatic BC in december,2011. after nine months of treatment i was deemed NED. my husband also has cancer, dx'd in 2009 with multiple myeloma. he is in remission and we are both doing well; but i keep in touch with a number of MM and BC blogs. i do not have a blog, but feel i've found my niche in commenting - lending support, learning, sharing parts of our stories that might help others, giving others comfort,, encouragement, validation and letting them know their voices are being heard. also doing what i can to support initiatives to wipe BC and all cancers off the face of the earth. TC after my name stands for the commentor - and yes, i know the spelling is not dictionary worthy - it's just my own quirky thing, the "or" on the end.
keep writing, and know that i am thinking of you, cheering you on through this next chapter of treatment.
love, xo
karen, TC
Karen, So glad you shared. I like that (TC). It's nice. When I was in my support group before my 2nd DX I was feeling similar. I was just trying to drop online and cheer folks up a bit or say a kind word or two, so I understand why you are commenting on blogs and supporting people. It is very much appreciated.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad to hear that you're NED. That seems nearly unheard of once you get the IV DX. You must be leading a blessed life. I've got a friend with IV right now and she is trying to cope as best she can but I know it is scary for her. I guess it helps me keep things in perspective to know her as well. I can't feel too sorry for myself considering my condition and hers. Still I pray she will find a way to be cured as well.
Thanks again for dropping in and chatting. Take care.
Maria