Radiation Wretchedness

When it rains, it pours.  I know Nathan posted yesterday and gave you the fantabulous news about my latest and greatest cancer adventure.  What only a few of you may have heard last night is that as, I, the one and only Elisa Bond, or the 1% for very different reasons than they are protesting around the world, would have it, the wretchedness of radiation hit me hard the very first day...yep, right out of the gate. Surprise, surprise. (Eye roll.) 


Anyway, I feel much better this morning having gone to bed on a cocktail of steroids and Klonopin. And who doesn't deserve some reward after that hell? As anyone in my life can attest, I have probably vomited 20 times in my entire life.  I'm just not a "pucker."  On the other hand, when it comes to or rather goes from my my culi (pronounced koo-lee from the Sp. el culo or It. il culo) the bowl is my frenemy.  I will do absolutely anything not to throw up.  Bulimia could have never been an option for me. 


However, all it is not lost.  With my admittedly, unhealthy weight-obsession, which I blame solely on mass media for air-brushing the likes of Kate Moss, I feel I earned a reward.  My prize?  I dropped a  pound this morning. Granted it was probably only water weight and I am most likely dehydrated and will wind up on IV fluids by the end of the week, but let's celebrate now.  Better yet, let's fantasize.  Let's see...if I have 15 days of treatment plus two weeks of post-crappiness, I could potentially lose up to 25 pounds. Folks,  I could be my 10th grade self. I could give up my Not Your Daughter's Jeans*.  This is the key to getting through the next month and a half.  My strategy - This will be light at the end of the dark, Hobbit-fucking underground, no direction-having burrow that leads me through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, spits me out in Red Hook forces me to cross the Gowanus Canal by swimming and walking the rest of way home.


Obviously, I meant to post this last week but I just couldn't get my thoughts clear enough to make sense of them and wanted everyone a chance to digest the newest developments which Nathan so perfectly relayed.  You should all be aware that the drugs are working better and I am not suffering as I thought I would and thank god I have them.


Now a selfish request if you might indulge me.  I do want to respond to all your comments on the blog, on my Facebook page, on the Team Facebook page but I just don't have the energy. But please, please don't stop writing/commenting.  I read them all and my heart swells with love and hope and strength and courage.  Thank you for continuing to care in the many ways that you do.  Deepest gratitude to each of you.

*Every woman should own a pair off Not Your Daughter's Jeans no matter what your size or maternal status - buy a size smaller and you actually look a size smaller.  A true gift of modern fashion.  Oh and the asterisk thing - I am stealing that from Tina Fey's Bossypants  book which has given me the courage to open my big ass mouth again and let the chips fall where they may.