a little chemo poem

A is for avastin. I like it very much...mostly cuz it doesn't do very much (bad)
   I never see it coming and I don't see it going
   so pump me full of avastin, ever just a touch
B is for benadryl, it makes me a 'tard
   I can't move, I can't talk, I take it rather hard.
   If you wanna  see me being fairly loopy,
   let me chug some benadryl and babble til I'm droopy
C is for comptaser which stands for diarrhea
   how that works with no colon, I have no idea,
   it sounds like fun, sounds like a blast.
   but at least I won't have explosions out my ass!
E is for erbitux. this I fear is horrid.
   it's been called many names, so I'm not looking forward.
check back soon if I don't crash, and ask my opinion of the erbi-rash!

the audience (from rebecca's journal)

it's become clear that I'm not good at being very consistent. Um, at anything. needless to say, I go back and forth between writing in here (inconsistently)& writing on my online blog(inconsistently). the two have vastly different audiences. yes, I think about the "audience" to what I'm writing. the online blogs, obviously, able to be read by anyone who has access to a computer& the inclination to look me up. its read by people I've never met before. some of them leave their mark. or make their presence known & some just lurk in the murky darkness of the world wide web. now, my lil journal here...well, I just assume it has an audience. they just haven't found it or started reading yet. not that I plan on bringing this book in somewhere, publishing it. I just assume when I die this will be found( i don't try to really hide it, but, you get what I mean). someone will find it & inevitably read it. at least, some of it. I also would have to assume that would mean it would be someone I know. probably very meet someone tomorrow&they could ,over a relatively short time, become  very close with me & right now I have no idea who they are(oh, & in case you're curious at this point, I've just decided to become asexual. I feel its the most reasonable & emotionally cost-effective for my mental state. maybe elaborate more on that later.) so needless to say, sometimes I think about who will be reading this without my knowledge or consent. maybe I'll do something dramatic, like burn this in effigy. though, chances are better that I won't.
once, a long time ago, (i was maybe 12-ish) &read diary of ann frank. the biggest thing I remember about it was how awful it was that millions upon millions of absolute strangers were reading this little girl's private thoughts. I felt both sad for her & guilty of doing the very same thing. that thought comes back to me very often.
well before I was diagnosed & therefore while I was still "normal", I'd wonder if its strange or unnatural to think that people will find & maybe read this & that I should hurry it up! why hurry it up? cuz cancer is fickle. one never can be certain. I think often how I don't think I'll be alive very long. not like I think I may keel over, say, tomorrow. but unless a miracle happens very very soon, I feel inevitably, I'll be defeated :(  (incidentally, it's now tomorrow & I didn't keel over...). I sometimes wonder why i can't just get it easy & fall asleep one night &just not wake up? I wonder if people that has happened to, if they could ever appreciate how lucky they are to have that happen. they not only have no idea that's coming, they don't have to spend time agonizing over unfinished business, wrapping up loose ends, righting their wrongs, etc. however unlike, say, a car accident victim, or maybe someone caught by cross-fire that kills them, they (people that die in their sleep) don't have to worry about the pain and suffering associated w/a sudden violent death. man...I really envy those people.
anywho, I'm kinda just weary on life today. I can't wrap my mind around my life at this time. I don't seem able to find motivation in order to "care" about things. & in general...I'm just tired of people. normal people. they bother me without even trying or attempting to. oh, that, and it's back to cold.  BAH.

on turning 30 and having hope

I lost this journal after the last entry, right before this & just found it wedged between my bed and my wall (duh, what an obvious place) almost a year later and...I'M STILL HERE! surprise! just celebrated my 30th bday last weekend. HOLYSHIT...THIRTY!! fuckin' hell. didn't think I'd see the day. literally I had phases in the past year where I sincerely thought I wouldn't make 30. but true to stubborn becca-form, I made it here.
I don't know if I'm any better for it though.
I reconnected w/ a friend from college, miguel and after many long coffee-shop talks, he's inspired to do a quasi-documentary based off my blog. he's a crazy awesome film-maker. (award-winning, I suppose that's impressive) but more so than awards, he has got to be one of THE most charismatic men I've ever met. the man has an energy about him that is addictive and tangible and crazy-infectious! he somehow has me feeling that he "gets it". NOT that he knows how it feels to BE me but he damn sure has qualified into the area of empathy, that i'm comfortable he gets what I've been griping about. what's in my head may actually make it out to a large audience afterall. and if nothing else, being on film will somehow or another give me immortality. I guess I have subconciously been desiring a way to leave a mark somehow. why else would I have posed half naked in a calendar? how else would I explain blogging? we've been shooting since end of october/beginning of november. I've got an adorable bunch of young talented film-student crew. they're all amazing and it's been a fun new ride having them all a part of my life. I'm hoping in a couple of weeks to see a rough cut. it's awkward seeing yourself in film context. I think I play off very well. so far, I've loved what I've seen. wow, this entry almost sounds POSITIVE! go figure.

words from rebecca

rebecca died on march 24th. she fought to the bitter end. it is hard to put a judgement on that statement. would she have lived longer if she had stopped treatment? I think that may be true. but it was not my choice. so as I am cataloging and parcelling out what remains of all the stuff left behind, I am coming across things. writings and pictures and old home movies and facebook. i know she wasn't "done" yet. I am NOT surprised at what an influence she was on people she didn't even know. she took the role of cancerlebrity seriously, even though she found it burdensome at times. she was alone, unmotivated and tired in the last 1 1/2yrs. cancer became a full-time job and energy was finite.
I thought about hacking into this account and posting some of the writings I've found. it seems fitting somehow. her facebook page has been made public and there is a wide-spread outreaching from all over the world. so, if people are still following this, leave a comment of whether or not those words deserve to be heard, or were even meant to be heard. it is pretty raw stuff so far. may b hard to take. maybe not but either way she will be missed.

Dichotomy

I was reading a book awhile back (granted MANY people have read this book as of late, as I do believe it's being made into a movie currently. still...this was bout 3 years ago). A part of the book the characters were discussing that everything: every being, every entity, every object, every city, every genre, culture, and individual has A Word. One word that in an overall average or medium...most accurately embodies that thing.

I'd say, for instance, Chicago, as a city...it's word could be "VARIETY" OR "PLENTITUDE". If you want something, chances are good you'll have ALOT of options for that thing in Chicago. I think it must almost be a subliminal bit of pride in some of us born Chicagoans knowing that we have so many choices.

But my word?? I'm sure at any given point in my life, my "word" could and has changed. We're transient beings, after all, right? And who more to be transient than my airy gemini as I am? (not that I could claim to really know so much about astrology. But i digress...)

So. My word? I think, at this very moment in my life, I am going with "DICHOTOMY"

A Dichotomy is any splitting of a whole into exactly two non-overlapping parts.

I have such a capacity for love, peace and serenity in me. A massive capacity for it, actually. It's difficult to reach that place, but it exists within me.

And at the very same rate, I have an immense capacity for spite, rage and seething anger. It's easier to reach, of course, as it always goes.

The path towards both of these places, within me, are vastly different. Obviously. But each require much the same amount of effort, regardless of how different the path is.
I can't say it's more fun to pursue peace, love and all that fuzzy warmness, anymore than it is to drift chaotically into hate, rage and blazing iciness.

Each path leads me to places that have different names. Different physical locations within myself, and different atmospheres surrounding them. Except with the common theme of ultimately just being a place in which I am alone. Utterly alone with myself.


Ssssoooo...your word is?

Priorities

I need to get my priorities straight.
Here I am. midnight.
chemo begins in T minus nine hours. and counting.
and here I am. whining.
complaining.
cracking snarky jokes about fallin' off the wagon,
but they're trying to save my life.
Have I gotten SO adapted to having cancer that it's become an annoyance??
I've gotten so good at being a patient that I have forgotten I am actually under attack?
All day long, every minute of every day my cells are at war. They are fighting for their (or rather, MY) life, and here I am complaining.
How can I remind myself that I have a terminal disease which can (and chances are will) kill me, when I'm feeling so good?
Its been a nice couple months. I've been off chemo since february. And although I've been plenty busy with many many trips to hospitals, it was such a change of pace...the whole cyberknife thing...that I guess I just got too comfortable.
I got to accustomed to having my skin back to what I remember. To having my hair actually have a shine to it again, instead of the dull look from all the various chemicals coursing through me. I got way to comfortable not having any taste issues, and being able to eat and drink ANYthing at ANYtime I wanted. I was too spoiled to actually have fridays OFF.
Trivialities really.
Really.
Because in the grand scheme of things, why should I be so concerned with these trivial things when my actual existance is at stake?
I could die. very easily. very quickly. and with no notice. specifically FROM this cancer. any given moment or instance, this tumor growing inside me (or ones they don't see currently) can wrap around some key artery, or impede an organ's function, or anything. and next thing you know, no more Becca. I'm not exaggerating over overreacting.
But because I feeeeeeel good and healthy at this very moment in time, I seem to feel it appropriate to bitch and moan about the inconvenience of chemo.
Really.
Its an inconvenience. It gets in the way. It cramps my style. I have too much living to do to be bothered with sitting in an infusion room.
GAH I just want to SCREAAAAAM. Fuckin' chemo. I thought I was done with you! How did I ever manage to convince myself of that?
And so Here I am.
Here I sit.
at my desk. at midnight. trying to get my head right. And trying to organize my priorities.
It seems somethings never change.

Nothing Like Barium in the morning!

(on a sidenote, I am not sure why the frame of the videos i'm embedding from youtube are being cut off on here...you're not missing much with the other inch of screen in the frame really, but i suppose if you wanted you could click the video screen and it'll just take you the that video on youtube's site. If anyone wants to help me out on this one, i'm much obliged)