EL DIABLO

It feels impossible to think good thoughts. Every ache, every pain brings fresh doubt and fear. I need water, I need food. I live on the moon. I don't have anyone to help get me anything.

That amalgam removal fucked me up. A little leaked out during extraction, I could literally smell my tooth. By the second day I was in a world of pain, excruciating bone pain, unbearable indescribable pain. For the next few days all I did was detox, waking to sleeping. Drinking "sand", enemas, baths, tons of liquid, teas, crying, stretches, sweats, I did and took everything I had, I tried my hardest. I hurt so badly. It subsided but I'm still weak from it. I just want to feel normal.

The medicine I wait on is taking too long. I don't feel protected. I seem to be getting worse. My chest houses sharp stabbing pains. There's pain running down my left leg from hip to ankle. Shoulder and back pain throbs in and out. I have only been awake for 9 hours but I am already wanting to sleep. Last night I was almost manic with energy. Today, nothing.

My parents don't know anything I take, make, do, they're in the dark. They don't ask questions, show interest, retain any information, show up for appointments unless I freak the fuck out after many months of feeling frustrated and alone. I practically have to scream and shout. They then freak out themselves realizing -- Holy Fucking Shit, my daughter has the kind of cancer that kills, I better go to a scan or something with her because she's going to die! Then it's like they punched a fucking card, are clocked out for however long until I get upset again and scream and shout.

I think they like to live in denial as much as everyone else. I wish I could escape too.

Who can I call on who can relate, everyone keeps dying. I lose someone, I meet through some cancer connection or another, almost every month, sometimes twice in a week. When I get to the point where there is no more reason to fight I want it to be over quickly. None of this hanging on for 3 months in bed. I might speed up the ending myself when I know it's futile.

Imminent doom is the hallmark of the mind-fuck that is living with incurable cancer. You never know what each new pain means. You can be living high for a minute and low low low for weeks. Each time is a little worse, a little longer, and you think to yourself, "This is it". I can barely walk, I was dancing yesterday. I'm not going to bounce back from this. I have had 20 bad days out of 26 this month. For whatever reason, it doesn't matter why. Being in a low state with no relief is the ice than can split the boulder in half. 

I stubbornly acknowledge that nothing stays the same, everything changes. This will change. My poor outlook and fear and pain will subside. In it's place will be hope, humor, and relief. I hate that I know this but can't see or feel it. Experience tells me to hang on, but my ego tells me to give up. I am again standing at the edge of the cliff hearing the chanting below, "Jump, jump, jump!"

Why is cancer such a fucker?