Wednesday, July 1, 2009
I have a bad habit. I just tend to let my e-mails build up. I have a couple hundred e-mails, and my responses to them from this past winter. I was in the process of deleting them when I realized that actually, they were kind of interesting. So much of this winter passed in a drugged fog. I forgot things. I forgot how kind people were. I forgot how chemo knocked me on my butt. At one point, when the drugs were making me woozy, I was trying to be brave, but commented to a friend, "This is not much different than being on a tilt-a-whirl. I am sick and want off the ride, but the tattooed operator is smoking a cigarette and talking to a peroxided blonde in tight jeans. He's not paying attention at all, and the ride just goes on and on and on. All I can do is hold on..." I was kind of impressed with that, although I did not remember saying it. I got kind of interested in reading those snippets of raw emotion from that time. Chemo was really hard. I got through it. For the first time, reading those old e-mails, I felt a sense of accomplishment.