My emotions have been pretty even all this time, but my brain has been scattered all over the landscape. Or maybe I'm prematurely experiencing the symptoms of cancer therapy. I feel like I already have "chemo brain"--memory lapses that come from chemo. Tonight I had a class in Far-away Suburb. My plan was to stop in University Suburb in the late afternoon, because it's on the way. There I would pick up some papers at WRU (Well-Regarded University) and meet a student in a coffee house to talk about her thesis. When I got out the car in the first suburb I realized I'd left all my class papers at home. So I met with the student for about 15 minutes, talking about her thesis but also about her breast cancer six years ago, drove back home, realizing there was no way I could get from home to Far-away Suburb *and* prepare for class and still get there on time. The only option was to drive back to University Suburb, take the 6:50 p.m. express train that got to Far-Away at 7:08 (covering something like 20 miles), and walk the few blocks to the class, which starts at 7:15. I parked near the train station at the first meter I saw, feeding it with all my quarters even as I saw a sign that said parking was limited there to 20 minutes. Parking restrictions are enforced fanatically in that suburb. I decided that getting a ticket was better than being late. I made the 6:50 train, graded papers at top speed, got to class on time and later took the train back to the first suburb, where I found that I hadn't gotten a ticket. If chemo brain is worse than this, I'm afeared.
The other night I threw up for no reason, except as dress rehearsal, perhaps, for chemo nausea. The only thing I'd had that night that L hadn't had was apple cider, and that didn't seem like a reasonable culprit. So I can say with authority that chemo ain't so bad, especially before it's started.
But I'm still afraid of it. And of fatigue. And weakness. And losing all my hair.
And of course the cancer coming back.
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