Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): This week was supposed to be my last week of chemo but guess who tested positive for COVID-19 this morning?! THIS BALD CANCER PATIENT. Rage is not a strong enough word for what I am experiencing.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

What do you get when you mix an opportunistic virus with an immunocompromised chemo-riddled host? You get a positive COVID-19 test on a Monday morning and rage-filled tears! This normally would not induce that much rage (or it might considering I have avoided catching COVID since December 2020) but the fact it was my last week of chemo and now it is postponed until next week leaves me breathless and wordless. I am SO CLOSE to being done with poison cocktails. I am done with the numbing neuropathy in my fingers. I am done feeling like a bloated dead jellyfish on the sandy beach. I am done with my creepy dead nails that scare people around me. I am done feeling like I have a body that has aged decades.

So while I struggle with the side effects of chemo, I also am struggling with the symptoms of COVID. My neck lymph nodes are super swollen. My body is EXTRA fatigued. The body aches are almost unbearable. I have a weird little cough that randomly appears throughout the day. But luckily no fever. It feels “mild” (in the grand scheme of things but I feel like I want to die) and I am vaccinated and boosted once, so I am grateful, but I worry given the state of my body. It is wrecked from chemo. I just hope that the variant I have and the viral load I have taken on is small and my body can kick this COVID bitch out of my system. Honestly the symptoms I have today are FAR worse than my weekly chemo side effects. Isn’t that funny?

I worry about my existing long COVID symptoms and how that might be impacted by this variant. Wouldn’t it be cool if this time around with COVID my parosmia just magically clears up? I don’t think that is how science works but you know I am hopeful. I just really hope my parosmia does not get worse. That is literally my worst nightmare right now. Let me enjoy my asada tacos in peace! I DON’T ASK FOR MUCH!

I’ve spent most of the day sleeping and letting my body rest. I had an initial feeling of PTSD when my COVID test lit up with two lines. The shame I experienced the first time around with COVID echoed through my body. It was a familiar response. It was heavy and sad and gut wrenching. There was so much pressure to trace where you might have gotten sick at or from who two years ago. And this morning I experienced that again when some people asked if I knew where I got it from. It made me feel bad as if I had made a bad choice and didn’t care about myself enough. In reality, COVID is spreading quickly through our community and is highly contagious. I could have gotten it from anyone or anywhere I have been to last week. Nobody would be asking me where or who I saw if I had come down with a cold or the flu, so why do we place so much importance on tracing COVID still? It once had purpose, but now the ways we catch COVID have integrated into the normal lives we live. I think we all need to do work to remove the shame that comes with getting sick. It isn’t like we leave the home with the intention of getting sick and sometimes you can do all the things in the world to protect yourself and it might just not be enough.

I do think we owe it to folks around us when we do get sick to let them know. I texted everyone I could think of that I have recently seen to let them know. They can make the choices they need to with their bodies and be on the lookout for symptoms. I think that is the responsible response in any scenario when we are sick with anything. You never know when you could be a carrier for something and spread it to someone who may not be able to fight it.

There is this balance I have been trying to strike between caring about myself and protecting myself by staying home, but also enjoying my life and not feeling like I am stuck in the cancer prison. I went 19 weeks striking the balance and that sneaky little COVID bitch was just lurking and found an opportunity to nestle in for a nice summer’s nap in my body. Rip.

My last chemo has been postponed to next Thursday. My scheduler called this morning and said I had the option to just not do my last chemo if I wanted to, but I want to RING THAT BELL. I will gladly consume more poison so I can know that feeling. That is victory. That is a tangible experience to make this feel like it was worth it. I mean yeah we are kicking cancer ass, but knowing the reward is to ring a coveted bell is something worth enduring for.

Thank you to everyone who has checked in and offered to bring me things. Shout out to Zach for the insane amount of Spudnuts, Heather for the special lemon ginger honey concoction, Sue for the strawberry milkshake, and Elissa for letting me use her Wal-Mart subscription to get groceries delivered. I don’t know what I did in this lifetime to be loved by so many people, but damn I am so fucking grateful and hope I can return the favor someday.

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

“Ready or not, here I come, you can’t hide
Gonna find you and take it slowly
Ready or not (Uh-huh), here I come, you can’t hide
Gonna find you and make you want me”

– Ready or Not, Fugees, Ms. Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras