You know how when you have that maddening mosquito bite which itches furiously and irresistibly, yet when you scratch it there's no relief exactly but rather only a sort of pain which just exacerbates the itch? However, the itchy sensation is overpowering that you just can't stop yourself from scratching it even though you KNOW, you just know that it will merely cause you more grief. You know the circumstances I mean?
Yeah, like that, except for a whole area on my torso, and not just a bump like with the mosquito bite. Aaaaahhhh!!!
The hydrocortisone just doesn't cut it. I rub it on and it's like pouring a teapot on a brushfire -- there's a brief flicker of forlorn hope and then you realize the fire is going to just chow down on that measly bit of water.
Thankfully, Fridays are my weekly check up with the radiation oncologist and so I will fling myself upon the mercy of her team (she herself is actually away this week). The infuriating itch (and there's a lovely lesion to go with it, by the way -- naturally) has put any concern over the blackening of my pores in the shade (and no, I don't mean blackheads like when we were teens -- I mean that the pores are all looking freaky).
Oh well, at least it took me 5 weeks to get to this state of discomfort -- I didn't arrive here earlier, if you see what I mean. No wonder the onco was so amazed at my tolerances during the previous weeks.
I blame the occasional lapse in memory (ah, chemo brain, how I don't love you) recently: until this past week, I have been diligently enjoying a glass od red wine every evening, per that new medical study I talked about previously. However, I forgot one or two times during the past week. See what happens??
The incongruously serene view above is of the East River and Manhattan Bridge, for those of you who have not visited lately. It's the view I get 4 days a week on the express bus as I trundle uptown for the daily zappage. (On Wednesdays, the appointment is too early -- that bus only starts running at 4:20 on weekdays, and doesn't run at all on weekends.) Calm blue water... must think of calm blue water....
Yeah, like that, except for a whole area on my torso, and not just a bump like with the mosquito bite. Aaaaahhhh!!!
The hydrocortisone just doesn't cut it. I rub it on and it's like pouring a teapot on a brushfire -- there's a brief flicker of forlorn hope and then you realize the fire is going to just chow down on that measly bit of water.
Thankfully, Fridays are my weekly check up with the radiation oncologist and so I will fling myself upon the mercy of her team (she herself is actually away this week). The infuriating itch (and there's a lovely lesion to go with it, by the way -- naturally) has put any concern over the blackening of my pores in the shade (and no, I don't mean blackheads like when we were teens -- I mean that the pores are all looking freaky).
Oh well, at least it took me 5 weeks to get to this state of discomfort -- I didn't arrive here earlier, if you see what I mean. No wonder the onco was so amazed at my tolerances during the previous weeks.
I blame the occasional lapse in memory (ah, chemo brain, how I don't love you) recently: until this past week, I have been diligently enjoying a glass od red wine every evening, per that new medical study I talked about previously. However, I forgot one or two times during the past week. See what happens??
The incongruously serene view above is of the East River and Manhattan Bridge, for those of you who have not visited lately. It's the view I get 4 days a week on the express bus as I trundle uptown for the daily zappage. (On Wednesdays, the appointment is too early -- that bus only starts running at 4:20 on weekdays, and doesn't run at all on weekends.) Calm blue water... must think of calm blue water....
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