Marilyn’s Musings

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Sat, Sept 10 – Three down, only 15 more to go!

I'm making an effort to not "futurize" too much about chemotherapy. It's a bit challenging, however, when all my medical people ask with an expectant tone, "Have you experienced ___________________ [insert: nausea, vomiting, pain, and/or fatigue] yet?" My answers are, so far, "No, No, No and No!" Who knows what the future will bring? But for now - which is the only time that matters - I'm feeling as good as can be after three chemo cocktails. They call them…

Friday, Sept 2: Forlornly Shorn (or, A Bad Buzz Cut)

"I look like my brother with mascara!" I shrieked. And then I wept. Until that moment, I had not felt like a cancer patient, nor looked like one. Now, there was no mistaking it. There were only a few other possibilities:  I had converted to some oppressive religious cult, had a bad case of head lice or was being readied for prison camp. But I have ovarian cancer. This is another dose of reality. This is really happening. Cancer scares me. I hate…