I’m almost 30…that means I have SIX weddings to go to this summer and many of my friends are getting pregnant. The similarities between my condition and that of my preggo friends are pretty astounding. For instance, we both have foreign bodies growing inside of us, though I’m actively trying to destroy mine while they are incubating theirs for life. Here’s a list of more similarites between cancer and pregnancy:
- We eat like monsters. Most of you would assume that chemo every day for a week would kill an appetite? Wrong. All I can do is eat so all I do is crush food. I’m also grossly underweight so I’m basically eating for two as well. This was my lunch today and yes I ate all if it. On the downside, both the pregnant women and I shouldn’t be eating sushi or rare steaks…
- Our liquor cabinets are EMPTY. Chemo and fetuses say no drinking.
- Strange new chemicals make our brains a little off. Pregnant women are a bit kookoo on hormone imbalances and I’m a little tardy with my chemo brain. Where the pregs cry when they burn toast, I fall down when I run to the kitchen because my microwaved popcorn back is completely on fire and the smoke alarm is going off and there are too many dirty dishes in the sink to throw the flaming bag in there but I did it anyway because my hands are burning. That’s what chemo brain does to you.
- We wake up and want to vomit every morning at 5:30am. Mmm, morning sickness and chemo voms. I know I used to be a tough guy about chemo and claim that it didn’t bother me, but I’m coming off a week of 5 straight days of chemo, a spinal tap, and twice a day shots in the tummy… try not to get sick on that.
- There’s an interent fetish for us. See Rule 36
- We both have distended bellies. They have a weird alien fetus growing in there, I need to keep up some fatty tissue so my twice-daily shots don’t hurt so much (and because there has been a lot of #1 going on without the ability to exercise).
- We are enduring months of hell for a very good reason.
- There’s gonna be a party when this shit is over.
So, my pregnant sisters, consider me your very own Arnold in Jr. I’m with you.