Ok. Mildly inappropriate. Seeing as how I'm referring to my boosies.
So. Shall I give you a glimpse into Chez Murphy and all it's glorious goings on? Well, if you insist...
I shall type it in a list format. For I miss my lists.
1. I've had two "fills" in my expanders and it feels like I'm wearing a coconut bra. Seriously. These things are hard as rocks. Well, rocks covered in flesh. And I still have a billion more fills to go.
2. A few days ago I discovered how to lay on my side in bed at night. This was a joyous occasion seeing as how I was using borderline profanity at night, trying to find a comfortable position. It only takes me five, maybe six pillows. It's like I made a nest. But I can sleep, so, I shall nest away.
3. I amend that previous statement- I can sleep...if I take sleeping pills. I am beginning to feel like a junkie.
4. I have to start chemotherapy. Whoa! I just dropped that bomb in there! That's the way I roll here at Chez Murphy. Dropping bombs. And participles.
I was unprepared for that little snippet of news. But, given my age (35) and what they now think is the size of my tumor (2.7 cm), chemo is a no-brainer. It makes the chance of reoccurrence from being 37% to 13%. And I'm here to tell you, I will do practically anything to avoid going through this again.
Because my good attitude? Has practically dried up. I admit it. I am borderline surly now. Thank goodness you only have to read my drivels, let alone sit in the same room as me whilst I stew on my immediate future.
Also, bonus! I will lose my hair!
Yes, that was said with smidgens of surliness. I admit it. I've not come to grips with being bald. Or being eyebrowless. Or eyelashless. Also, my spell checker thingy is hating me.
There is something very strange in knowing you're allowing literal poison into your body, which will kill all fast growing cells, all for the hope that if any remaining cancer lingers in some tiny corner or closet in my liver, it will be killed. It's a very bizarre reality.
5. We had family here. There were 12 peoples in my apartment. I'm happy to say the floor remained intact and didn't cave in on the folks living downstairs. We had a great time, driving through the national parks of The Coloradoes, eating at just about every restaurant here, watching the five Tim Hawkins videos my besties on FB sent me, to keep me from slitting a wrist whilst recovering from my copious surgeries. They were excellent therapy.
6. A squirrel ate my strawberry plant. We'd only harvested 6 berries from it. Which means I paid approximately $10 for 6 strawberries. I pretty much hate any and all squirrels and wish for their immediate death.
7. We saw Harry Potter. My brain was mostly drug free and I didn't trip out, as opposed to seeing the new Transformers right after taking a narcotic. THAT was a Woodstock experience, I'm pretty sure. I kept staring at the screen and thinking, is this real? Trippy. But back to HP. There was only one scene that bothered me, which I smugly turned to my Hubs and said haughtily, "THAT'S not in the book." And he called me out on my book purist pride. I don't care, I was busy eating my smuggled in Twizzlers.
8. Someone turned up the thermostat outside. Hence why I shall not be buying a wig. It is dadgummed hot outside.
9. IKEA opens in two days. We are so there. If nothing else but for the meatballs. Because this sister is craving meat.
10. I did my own laundry the other day. It felt so normal. To think I used to complain about doing laundry. And tonight? I shall cook my first meal in practically a month. Normalcy feels very good.
Eat a popsicle for me, so I can feel cool. Also, that is a double meaning. Also, I'm pretty sure it's worthless as I had to explain it. Alas.
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