Political nightmares about my cancer. I really have sunk low.
Slept well at least, dreams notwithstanding. Lorazepam really is my friend. Hates it, I does. I'm planning to spend a quiet weekend at home (do I have any other kind), though
mikigarrison will be visiting. The usual circus next week, with chemo infusion eleven of twelve overlapping the date of my 46th birthday.It bothers me that I don't really leave the house anymore. I've stepped outside my door twice in the last week, once for a brief walk on Sunday with
shelly_rae after we de-needled me, and yesterday when my sister drove me to my therapist's office. I probably won't step outside again until next Wednesday's therapy appointment, though the subsequent medical and natal festivities will get me into the open air a few more times before next week is out.Narrow. I am become so narrow. If I had Photoshop I'd make an image of myself as a stickman, because that's how feel. Narrow and tired.