Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): The last three days have been a ROLLER COASTER and I am sorry I ghosted you all. I had zero capacity to share any thoughts. But, I am back, and I am a bald bitch with dark stories to share! LET’S RAGE. Also today’s trigger warnings: discussing the loss of a pet and talking about bodily functions. Please read with caution and be gentle on your heart.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

Fuck. That is the only word I want to say.

The problem with today’s blog post is I don’t even know where to begin. I missed three days of sharing!!!! I have experienced a million emotions in the last 48 hours. Feelings I didn’t even know the human body could experience all at once. That sounds really dumb to say out loud. I feel incredibly devastated and numb. My body is currently wrecked, but not for the reasons you would think. I am surprisingly doing well after my second round of red devil deliciousness. I am functional. My side effects have been nothing compared to the first round of chemo, which is very confusing for me. Why am I not more sick? Is there something more sinister brewing in the universe? The answer that echoes back is, “Yes, bitch. Let’s test how strong you really fucking are!!!” And I learning I am quite weak, in fact.

So the universe decided in a single hand punch to the face to make me incredibly constipated to the point that I thought I was going to die, forced me to shave my head in search of relief while having my first chemically induced menopausal hot flash, and killed my dog. All in one day. Damn, the world wanted me to feel something yesterday. I felt it alright.

Let’s break this shit down. I know some of you are like, “Wait, what the fuck?” This post is not for the weak of heart. Also we are talking about poop today, so suck it up. Everyone poops. And if you don’t, I can hook you up with some Miralax.

Let’s start with the fact that I am (was?) feeling okay almost a week post chemo. I mean, I have been tired but nothing compared to last time. I kept most of my brain this time around, which has been nice. I enjoy having free thoughts. I noted they gave me extra fluids during my appointment, which I genuinely attribute to why I am doing so well. But they also gave me a hormone blocker and a growth factor injection. I massively underestimated what those shots do.

They make you constipated.

As someone who prides themselves on having a great healthy poop schedule, I really have brushed this side effect off thinking it would not be something I would deal with. Big mistake. As of yesterday, it had been several days since I had a good poop in my book. I was becoming ~concerned.~ I knew something was off. I also was planning to shave my head yesterday. The fall out has been unreal and actually really uncomfortable. The act of your hair falling out is just a weird devastating incident on its own and then you combine that with the fact that your hair follicles BURN and I wanted nothing more than to shave my damn head.

But before I could even begin my day yesterday, I found out my dog had unexpectedly passed away. My beautiful, sweet Ruby doobie. The dog who would lay on my chest, all 80 pounds of her, and softly give me kisses on my cheek. My sweet friend with the softest ears. My last dog alive in my family. She was going to turn ten this year. She had suffered a fall on the steps (bad hips!) and then come to find out she had kidney failure and a possible brain tumor. Like what the actual fuck? The world can be cruel at times. I wish animals could live forever. Animals nourish the world. My heart feels shattered. So my day started off fucked. I should have stayed home.

The afternoon rolls around. My stomach is feeling some type of way. My emotions are fried. I cried enough tears to fill all the oceans. I had scheduled the shave of my life at 5 pm, but the world had other plans. By 3 pm, I was the princess of toilet town. I could not leave my tiny ill lit bathroom and Squatty Potty. By 4:30 pm, my mom and sister arrived ready to take me to get shaved at the salon and I realized I could not sit normally. I barely could stand, let alone walk! I looked like a very distressed penguin waddling about my living room. I would not be able to make a trip across town in the condition I was in. I had decided at this point that I would need to survive one more day with disgusting hair if it meant figuring out what the heck was happening in my butt hole. So the evening dragged on. I chugged prune juice. I drank Miralax. My body was no longer my body. I was a prisoner of chemo hell trapped in my bathroom with petroleum jelly, my phone charger, and the desire to die. That is how intense my evening was. I had convinced myself that my poop was going to kill me, not my cancer. Yikes.

Despite missing my salon shave, my hair dresser blessed me with a house call at 8 pm. Unfortunately, I was so disoriented (again, another hair incident where I am OUT OF IT) and of course my body decided it should have its first chemically induced menopausal reaction and produce a wicked hot flash that I don’t remember much of what happened to me. I remember almost blacking out. I remember I couldn’t hear very well. I remember tears of relief and rage and confusion. My poop issues ruined my moment of fucking dignity.

The party was far from over for me. I was now a sad, little bald cancer bitch on a mission to poop while having a hot flash and sweating everywhere. Two of my best friends were messaging me and they stepped in at my darkest hour. One of them showed up at 9:30 pm with an enema and a pep talk. She was not going to let me die on my bathroom floor. No, not tonight. So since I probably need to chill it with this harrowing story (and what happened next is something you can use your imagination for) I will let you know that by 11 pm I had showered and had done something I never thought I would ever have the courage to do in my life and I am feeling a lot better today but holy fucking shit… my back hurts. My body is wrecked. I am so tired simply from trying to do what my body needed to do. And my butt hurts. Please pray and send positive healing energies to my butt.

I am pretty sure if you made it this far, you want to never read a blog post I ever write again. I am sorry. However, I swore to myself if I blogged about my journey, I would blog about what is really happening to me and honestly this happened to me. These are the REAL and RAW things that cancer patients are dealing with. Or, at least I am dealing with them. Loss. Pain. Betrayal. I am weak today (and now officially bald!) and yesterday was a horrific day on so many levels, but I am alive.

I am so grateful to be alive.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Noah Reid, dedicated to my Ruby.

“You’re simply the best
Better than all the rest
Better than anyone
Anyone I’ve ever met”

– Simply the Best (From “Schitt’s Creek), Noah Reid