I went to get a Booster shot for the Coof, Pharmacist told me to pound sand. After I walked all the way across that parking lot on these feet? Well FUCK him.
The Oncologist told me to get that booster shot because I am immuno-compromised? FUCK HIM TOO. You both have my address. Bring the booster here to me or forget it. I'm not putting myself through that bullshit again.
Wondering if I should even bother with ANY of these medicos ever again.
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I find myself raging way too much lately. Can't be good. Can't be good. If I could reach a level of calm and NOT bother with chemo, I would. Just accept it and let it all happen in its time.
Huh, I guess that is me trying to transition from stage 2 of grief to stage 3 and on to stage 5 all at once, at one time. Rip off that bandaid.
- Denial
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Acceptance
1 comment:
The thing is that the longer you fight the better the chances are that in that period of time more treatments will appear.
In the depths of chemo I was so sick that I could do very little. Including eat. Which of course put me in the hospital. And there was a point when I questioned going on. When I thought if they told me I needed more that I'd just say "F#ck it" and just die. Pretty much nobody knows that. Because I clawed out of it.
Every minute you live, every minute you fight, means something. I really don't know you, but I personally want to see your stupid Jayne hat 5 years from now. 10 years from now.
Dying is easy. Fighting isn't. Fight.
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