Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Bad Night.

Bad night ... stressed out, short temper, the works. I think it's the reality of picking up all of these pills at the pharmacy on the way home.  Now they're just sitting on my desk like the grim reaper.  Feel super tense tonight ever since I put Ariana to bed and I can't shake it off even when I'm not thinking about any of this.

Have two minor adjustments to make to my medication, so glad I went and got the stuff tonight.  There's a more effective version of one of the nausea meds (a version that dissolves under the tongue and hits you quicker), and they only gave me 1 week's worth of one of the three chemotherapy drugs with no refills (the 10-pills a dose steroid).  The pharmacy tech was nice, although she offered me the obligatory "sorry" about having to take all of this stuff.  I understand, it's just a hard reaction to hear so much lately.  I'm sorry too, folks.  Not quite as sorry as my daughter will be that she didn't have a daddy because he died of cancer, but yeah.



I know that's horribly unfair, I know.  I'm just bitter right now, it's just me tonight.  This just is so intense at times I can't cope with it.  It's not like I don't appreciate people caring, even strangers -- hell I feel guilty most of the time for existing with this, like I'm bringing down the people around me.  I'm sorry she had to deal with someone with cancer today, talk about a buzz-kill.

Frustrated.  Like my Aunt said today, it doesn't seem fair.  Got that right, Aunt B.

Time for another Xanax and to try to sleep this mood off.

I came close to doing something this afternoon that I have yet to do, which is break out the cancer card to get something.  I called the SkyRidge RMCC to schedule the three chemo sessions I need to do there and the person who answered the phone didn't know how to do that since my primary doctor in their group is stationed at another location, and I started to get the "this is too much of a pain in the ass" vibe you get from people who forget the compassion side of the job.  I was a few moments from giving her the sob story but she finally got the right person on the phone and got us all set up.  Hopefully correctly.

On a lighter note (which isn't too hard to hit after the last four paragraphs), been watching videos for the last few hours trying to cheer up and calm down while putting together an Iron Maiden playlist for a friend's young son (5 years old?  My memory sucks).  He was singing some horrifying "Call Me Maybe" pop garbage the last time I saw him, so it's intervention CD time.  Wanted to put some Slayer on there too but we need to work up to that, and 5's a bit young for the lyrics of Angel of Death, Dead Skin Mask and South of Heaven.

Six should be OK for that though, right?

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