Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): June over? Julying! 24 days left on this chemo journey, which includes four chemo infusions, one Zoladex stomach injection, and I am sure other surprises. All of my finger nails are officially lifting, with five that have stopped leaking and are mostly lifted. The finger that took me to the emergency room is the most separated. Both of my big toes are lifting as well. I am basically falling apart and according to my sister, my lifted toes smell bad, too. Shout out to my mom and sister who gave me a pedicure today! My toes are in poor shape.

TO THE SHORT VERSION!

They said I would have good days and I would have bad days. I think “bad” is subjective and I know that my bad days could be a lot worse, but things are getting harder. My energy is not bouncing back as quickly. I feel achy, not in a flu way but my muscles feel worn out. Like it took me 43 minutes to do a 30 minute workout this morning. Fuck. I feel so fucking weak. I feel like I have lost like 30% of my hand coordination. I drop things a lot. My hands run into walls which hurt my lifted nails. I can’t feel the tips of my fingers. Basic activities are getting harder to do. I officially cannot open cat can lids or do dishes. It is hard not to feel depressed being trapped in a body that you know is capable of so much, but currently is at its limits.

I went to a friend’s birthday party this weekend. It was outdoors and it was 70’s summer camp theme. Fun right? She had so many fun game stations set up outside for guests to play at: corn hole, standing foursquare, hula hooping, creating beaded bracelets. I couldn’t participate in any of them except for the temporary tattoo station. I put so many butterfly tattoos on my leg! It was cool. But also being there was depressing as fuck. I wanted to do the zip line, but was worried my hands would give out holding on to the handles while gliding down. I wanted to play games and have fun, instead I was on the side lines in a chair sipping on my water. It was a rude reminder of the mercy cancer does not have. I don’t care if it doesn’t last forever. That provides little comfort in my day to day existence these days.

I went for a small walk alone yesterday and kind of just… cried. It has been a while since I have pity cried. I am so tired of having cancer. I can’t do shit. My body is just tired and falling apart. And it is hard to find ending chemo as a consolation prize knowing I get my boobs chopped off next, followed by getting lasered up like some rotisserie chicken. These are not winning outcomes for me, well aside from potentially hearing I am in remission. I know that is the goal and it is great, but everything it takes to get there is so fucking hard. It feels like it might not ever come.

So I am going to take the evening to wallow in my sadness and then tomorrow keep moving forward. Thanks for listening.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Daft Punk.

“We are human after all
Flesh uncovered after all
We are human after all
Flesh uncovered after all

– Human After All, Daft Punk