I am so sick of having cancer. First of all, I am absolutely sick of having life threatening cells living in my body. Then after a minute or two of that, I'm find myself okay with it because my implementation of the Gerson Therapy has powerfully held the cancer at bay and will, in the end, remove it. The next place I find myself is absolutely sick of being on bed rest... since May!!!! I can humbly commend myself [is that possible?] for staying so positive during this nine month stint. But this week, I am so [insert your favorite form of profanity] sick of this! For the love of God, I simply want to go for a walk or stand at the oven and cook my own meal for myself.
My mind wanders in and out of thoughts of what the various "alternatives" are and then I suddenly come out of my self-induced dream state to realize the only "alternatives" are 1) radiation - prior to which, I could strategically place strips of bacon to cook on my body for after treatment snacks or 2) a colostomy, for which no jokes come to mind. This brings me back to the start of it all: bed rest and my initial statement: I am so sick of having cancer.
And that's what I've been most present to lately. What there is no way around. I'm sick of this and the only say I truly have in any of this is my attitude. And this week, outside of being polite, I am sick of having a positive attitude. Am I worried about that? No. I've never been one to spend much time feeling sorry for myself. I don't enjoy the victim role - it doesn't pay. And I will be back to normal self relatively soon, but not right now. Right now, this whole thing just stinks and I'm perfectly happy with that.
What a drag.
A funny movie is definitely in order. Hopefully, my Netflix movie has arrived. I'm hoping to see Superbad. It was done by the same folks who did The Forty Year Old Virgin to which, to my surprise, I laughed out loud while watching by myself - something I haven't done since the first time I watched Groundhog Day.
My mind wanders in and out of thoughts of what the various "alternatives" are and then I suddenly come out of my self-induced dream state to realize the only "alternatives" are 1) radiation - prior to which, I could strategically place strips of bacon to cook on my body for after treatment snacks or 2) a colostomy, for which no jokes come to mind. This brings me back to the start of it all: bed rest and my initial statement: I am so sick of having cancer.
And that's what I've been most present to lately. What there is no way around. I'm sick of this and the only say I truly have in any of this is my attitude. And this week, outside of being polite, I am sick of having a positive attitude. Am I worried about that? No. I've never been one to spend much time feeling sorry for myself. I don't enjoy the victim role - it doesn't pay. And I will be back to normal self relatively soon, but not right now. Right now, this whole thing just stinks and I'm perfectly happy with that.
What a drag.
A funny movie is definitely in order. Hopefully, my Netflix movie has arrived. I'm hoping to see Superbad. It was done by the same folks who did The Forty Year Old Virgin to which, to my surprise, I laughed out loud while watching by myself - something I haven't done since the first time I watched Groundhog Day.