Came on fast

In the middle of last night, I woke to a pain in my chest and left arm and the sinking feeling that something was very wrong. I have since felt utter exhaustion and the nausea has kicked up many notches.

I called the doctor's office and they don't seem terribly concerned, and I'm sure they're right. It's just that my confidence in my physical well-being went from 8 (on a scale of 10) to 2 in the past 24 hours and I'm feeling a bit helpless.

I feel restless. But I don't have the energy to do much more than walk to the kitchen or bathroom. Feeling a bit trapped. I'm sure it will pass.

Thanks to everyone who has been writing and helping me out. A special thanks to my roommate Coleton who has really been helping me out with household chores and running errands.

This is kind of just a rant with some gratitude thrown in. I feel like total shit and I just needed to share.

2nd base

Had my second chemo today. It went better than the first one. My least favorite part is the benadryl. I've always hated that drug, it makes me insane in an unfun way.

I sat for 7 hours this time, which was 3 hours shorter. I don't mind the waiting though, I've gotten good at it over the years. Plus, it's a chance to connect with my mom a little better. Being in a cancer center together encourages honesty. I'm actually learning who my mom is as an individual, independent of her role as mother. She's cool.

She was reading a book about how to be a mother to grownup children. So maybe she's not as stoked about the shift in our relationship. She's trying at least.

In less important news, I finally got a hat to cover my white head. It barely fits. It is the largest size they make and it squeezes my cranium vice-like. But I'm desperate for a head cover, so I'm keeping it for now.

Paula is still in Europe. The England part of Europe. I'm really glad I made peace with the disappointment. She's having a good time and it's well-deserved. I'll leave it at that. But I will say that I'm excited for her to get back not just because I miss her, but because I'm excited for our relationship. I feel like this ordeal, trivial as it might seem, has put some things in a wider perspective.

Thanks to everyone for reading. Feel free to ask questions. I don't promise to answer every question. Yes, my pubes are falling out too.

Whoa

It's been 11 days since my last post. I kept meaning to write something, but my life has been filled mostly by Breaking Bad and food--both of which everyone already has opinions on.

My hair started falling out two days ago. And this morning it started coming out in giant clumps. So I shaved the fuck out of it.

I am more upset by this than I probably should be. Not that I go anywhere other than Starbucks or to pick up takeout. And who do I have to impress?

Aside from thinking fair-complected men look bad with shaved heads, I have been unready to share with the world that I'm sick. My family and friends have known, but this gives the world at large a big hint and that makes me feel vulnerable.

I have my second chemo treatment tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it, but I'm ready.

Showers

I just took a shower. Before I started having cancer, I showered everyday; but it has become slightly more harrowing lately, so I space them out a bit. Not too much though--I stopped wearing deodorant, because once you get cancer in your armpit you get a little chemical shy, particularly when it comes to applying it right to where the lump used to be.

My hair hasn't fallen out yet, but from what I've read that should be happening sometime within the next two weeks. I know that being male, I don't have the pressure to remain beautiful through all of this, that losing his hair can be worn as a badge of toughness for a man; but I've never been a hat guy (partially because I have a size 8 head) and I don't like to expose that much of my pale white skin. Read into that last bit however you'd like.

Showering has become more of a body examination than a body cleansing. Feeling around at lumps. I examined my left ball the other day and I won't be doing that again. There was a discomfort when I did so and when you know you have cancer in your body, any pain in any important organs is terrifying. It was probably just some post-chemo aching.

I started watching Breaking Bad (Walt has Stage 3a too) and all of the toughness in the face of adversity seemed a little premature. My perspective is skewed because I have one of the more treatable types; if the cancer were centered in my lungs I'd probably be more freaked out about it. But more than that, I have felt like shit for so long; that I'll gladly suffer for a few months if it means I can feel better. I've really settled in to believing that this is a strange blessing.