Staving off Cabin Fever: Hunting for RNs

Among blood clots, bed sores and other physical ailments caused by sedentary life in the oncology ward there is another,  even more dangerous enemy: Cabin Fever.  The doctors want us to keep on our feet as much as we can because being physically healthy is a healthy idea when you are already unhealthy and blah blah blah ugggghhh shut up I’m not listening. My doctor threatened to light a few matches under my shoe earlier today if I didn’t make an effort to get some hallway time (similarly to when we throw a racket ball down my apartment hallway for Dumb Dumb Ruby to chase). We’re supposed to walk three miles a day,  the hallway of the oncology unit is 28 laps to a mile, and the hallway looks like this:

BORING
28 x 3 x that= NERP

Compare that close-out WalGreens aisle to the sexual vibrancy of color, light and magic that exists within the confines of my Studio 54 Quarantania:

NOT SORRY
DEAL WITH IT

There is a clear winner when it comes to inviting atmospheres, and it surely isn’t the neutered network of fluorescent vas deferen outside my door. I tried to convince my doctors and RNs that I get plenty of exercise by bouncing my legs along to the sweet jams I be pumpin’ in here all day long but they still insist upon the fact that I leave my room and exercise my dumb body, despite the fact that I’ve been spending 30 years purposely punishing it.

I decided, regardless, to be a good little patient tonight and venture out into the vapid hallway… but on MY terms. I wasn’t just going to walk up and down the hallways like your local mall’s Bitchin Blue-Hair Betty Brigade… No, I WAS GOING ON AN ADVENTURE.

Continue reading Staving off Cabin Fever: Hunting for RNs

Our Chemo Romance

Chemo Romance, not that crappy band….

One of the hardest things about having the immune system of a kitten born prematurely with unrelenting feline AIDS is the lack of human contact. My chart says that I am “profoundly neutropenic,” which means that my white blood cell count is lower than snake piss (as we used to say in Upstate NY.) An errant fart could kill me at the moment, so everyone who enters my hospital suite has to wear a mask, gloves and a really stylish yellow gown made out of low-grade paper towels. My doctors and nurses handle me constantly, so I do have SOME contact, but that’s obviously not what I’m talking about. This is about being around my girlfriend.

To put it bluntly, my current physicality with Liana is about as fulfilling as a Mormon safe sex pamphlet. Ever since we’ve been separated by sterile barriers, I’ve realized how much I’ve taken for granted… There have been no hello kisses, no hand holdings, no skin-on-skin snuggles, no hair smellings (keeping this rated G, you PERVS.) The last feeling I had before falling asleep every night used to be her lips against mine, or at the very least a stray hand that fumbled toward me in the dark to maintain a symbolic contact.
Continue reading Our Chemo Romance

Cathartic Vulnerability

Today marks one week of living in my temporary hospital home. It honestly feels like I just got here because I’ve been so damn busy. Would it surprise you to know that I haven’t watched a single minute of visual media (other than the morning news while I drink my coffee and eat my 8 pieces of bacon— shut up, my oncologist told me to eat whatever the hell I want: DOCTOR’S ORDERS) or read a single sentence of leisure reading? I’ve been sitting in this 200 square foot room for an entire week with no “work” to do and haven’t been bored once. I’m as astounded as you are considering that I can’t sit around my apartment between 5-10pm with out going a bit stir crazy every weekday. I suppose the blog and the hourly circulatory system rapings help pass the time… but still.

I guess I should be counting my blessings that this isn’t some sort of brain cancer that robs me of my ability to focus, if such a thing even exists. One full week of total mental stimulation and productivity, one full week of new and exciting (for better or worse) experiences, one full week of thoughts and emotions that I ignorantly never expected to have.

Today was actually the first day that I felt less than stellar physically. I was warned that this would happen and I’m prepared for it. At the risk of sounding pretentious or full of myself, the brave face that I’ve put on is absolutely genuine and is not a happy clown mask hiding a sad clown face… but I would be lying if I weren’t without my moments of fear, doubt and vulnerability this week. This blog has been light and positive, funny and uplifting, but it has always had the intention of being a an unfractured reflection of my true experience with this life changing kick in the dick.

Continue reading Cathartic Vulnerability

Letter Home from the Dorm: My Class Schedule/Syllabus

Dear Home,

Hey guys! So our RAs said it would be a nice idea if I wrote you a status letter, since I’m approaching the end of my first week here at the Colorado Blood Cancer Institute Dorms. It’s been quite the learning experience… All the other kids are cool, my RAs seem pretty chill (though they are awfully strict about some things, and I’m sure I’ll have to towel the door and hide my Coors Light behind the soda in my mini fridge) and the cafeteria food isn’t THAT bad. I miss the privacy and comforts of home, but the excitement of co-ed communal living also has its benefits. Sometimes I get to hang out in the common room with the other kids in the dorm and chillax out with some sick puzzles and crossword books. It’s pretty dope and chill and stuff.  It’s not all about leisure time though, I’m here at the institute for a reason and that’s what I’ve been focusing on. I’ve pretty much committed my class schedule and syllabus to memory at this point, so I feel like I’m in pretty good shape to get my money’s worth and graduate on time with a better than average GPA. You’ll be proud of me, I promise.

Here is a rundown of my daily life at the institute:

Continue reading Letter Home from the Dorm: My Class Schedule/Syllabus

Chemo Sesh #2: Chemochic

ChemoSteamo
ChemoSteamo

Bet you never thought chemotherapy could be sexy, right? Well that’s why I’m here, to buttram your preconceived notions of all things Cancer. You can have fun, you can enjoy yourself, you can be sexy as fuck.

The peacock silk scarf appeals to those women out there who enjoy some flash and pizazz in a man- bright tail feathers to catch their attention. The messy unshowered greasy hair is for the bad boy trouble maker that they can’t help but loving, despite their best efforts to remove aloof danger from their lives. Bringing it all together is the come hither glance an slight lip pout. It’s a subtle expression, but more powerful than foot rubs and chocolate ice cream when played correctly.

Continue reading Chemo Sesh #2: Chemochic

#Leucky

This is the title card from an old HBO show, if you aren't culture savvy.
This is the title card from an old HBO show, if you aren’t culturally savvy.

I want to get #Leucky to trend amongst the cancer community.

Definition: The full spectrum of of luck, from good to bad, that is brought on by having Leukemia.

Obviously it’s easy to see the bad luck that the disease can bring to a person. Ex: “welp, all my eyelashes fell into my cereal this morning, #leucky me!” or “My blood platelet count is lower than my IQ, it’s my #leucky day!”

But to be honest with you, I’ve been using it in a much more positive light, because if you’ve been reading my blog you may have noticed that I have fetishized the disease into a demented positivity. Every time I read through the comments on my donation page I feel like the #lueckiest man alive. When a nurse tells me that my energy has elevated the mood of the entire cancer ward I realize how #leucky I am to be able to help other people just by being myself. When my girlfriend goes way out of her way to make me feel loved despite my #unleucky circumstances, I know that I #leucked out big time.

Continue reading #Leucky

Control, or Lack Thereof

Everybody who knows me would describe me as a tightly wound anxious control freak. I used to wear this as a badge of honor, citing it as the example why most of our social endeavours end up working out so well. Somebody has to take charge sometimes to plan and organize things or else events will just devolve into people randomly walking into each other and losing their ability to speak English.

I’ve never been a “go with the flow” type. I don’t believe in the phrase. When water initially flows down a piece of land,  physics and gravity guide it into a channel. It isn’t just a random karmic movement of flowing molecules… they are governed by real laws of science until they find the best possible channel down which to flow. I am a type of person that goes out and looks for that channel, and if it doesn’t exist… I dig it. It’s proactive pragmatic situation control… it works wonders in many disciplines of the world.

Continue reading Control, or Lack Thereof

The Best Gift Ever

When you are sick, you get lots of gifts. My small room is overflowing with the physical manifestations of the generosity of my friends.

There are thousands of pages of books ranging from things I actually want to read (like the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, among many other things) to ironically donated over the top new age self help books. I love to read, so I’m super happy about my new library.

Some good books, Some other books
Some good books, Some other books

There are a few crystals on my windowsill… how Colorado. I’m not one to scoff at the supernatural power of rocks -oh wait, yes I totally am, it’s literally one of my favorite trolls on my Phish message board, but in times like these I will take what I can get when it comes to promises of healing energy.

I think this one wards of placebo energies
I think this one wards of placebo energies

Continue reading The Best Gift Ever

Chemo Sesh #1: lolcancer

chemo 1
lolcancer… is that all you got?

Uh, what’s the big deal? I thought this shit was supposed to be the worst thing ever. I mean, it’s basically a consensual holocaust of all the living cells in my body. I didn’t wake up bald, impotent or grey-skinned today… In fact, I woke up early, feeling like I won the lottery while getting laid last night!

Actually, I was told that the first round wouldn’t bother me. The only side effects I had were peach-colored urine (yes, this is a sexy cancer blog) and a metallic taste in my mouth. I took two IV drugs last night called Vinccristine and Daunorubicin. I don’t know what they do and I don’t care, because what difference does that make? I trust the super brilliant and talented staff here: They give, I take. They say, I do. My life philosophy was the exact opposite pre-leuke… And it has been liberating (have you picked up on my recurring theme yet?)

Continue reading Chemo Sesh #1: lolcancer

Now Hiring: Secretary for Chemo Patient

You’d think that being locked in a blood cancer unit in a hospital for a month would allow you some free time, but you’d be wrong. You’d be wrong because you don’t have blood cancer and don’t know what that’s fucking like, so take a minute to enjoy that, you ungrateful swine!

I haven’t had a moment’s peace or quiet since I was admitted on Thursday (1/22/15) morning. And I’m not talking about the regular hospital procedurals, exams, or administrations; I’m talking about the constant barrage of concerns, well wishes, vibes, prayers, tears, supports, offerings, emotional diarrheas and selfless displays of kindness, friendship and love that have been erupting from my cell phone, Facebook page and email. I feel like the director of a high-octane national press organization who needs several assistants and/or a daily allotment of amphetamines just to keep up with his ever erect inbox. I need help, I need to hire a secretary….

:checks finances, sees skyrocketing medical bills: Continue reading Now Hiring: Secretary for Chemo Patient