Chemo Sucks.

An update from the thick of it

Chemo sucks. It just sucks. It hurts. It’s painful. And I hate it. I hate it more than a kindergarten girl hates boys. Boys are gross. I hate it more than a ten-year-old hates homework. Or beets. Blech! Ugh! I hate it more than a zitty teen hates his phone being ripped away and locked up in a kitchen drawer. Life is hard. I hate it.

Six (6) days ago was chemo treatment three (3) of twelve (12) — every two (2) weeks for two (2) days, for six (6) months, to treat stage-three (3) colon cancer, because they found a four-inch (4) tumor and five (5) malignant lymph nodes. That’s a lot of numbers. Numbers don’t suck. But chemo sucks. Yes, sir, it does. Yes, ma’am. It sucks and I hate it. I’m a 46-year-old man who has been reduced to a whining brat.

Nausea. Neuropathy. Migraines. Utter exhaustion. Fatigue is the medical term. That’s what the nurses say. We don’t say lethargy because correcting the pronunciation makes you sound like a snob. Everything I eat or drink tastes like tiny shards of metal. Like chewing aluminum foil. Chomping on Reynolds Wrap. And swallowing scandium, or lanthanum, or cerium. Or thulium, terbium, promethium. I googled metals.

It sucks. There are many things in life that suck. Sure. There’s slow internet. And hangnails. And fungus. And kissing someone who turns away. There are…