Cancer?! I Hardly Know Her

They say common side effects of chemotherapy are nausea, loss of hair, loss of taste and smell, and the list goes on. This post will be about my first experiences dealing with the onset of these side effects. Luckily, not all of the side effects have set in yet, i.e. I still got mah long Egyptian maneeeee. REPPIN DA HOMELAND.

I'd like to start off with nausea. Woe be unto the one who feels as if they are about to vomit, may the Lord be with thee. I'm pretty sure that's in the Bible, right? For all of my Dane Cook fans out there, nausea for cancer patients is like the Karen in your group of friends. Nobody wants Karen around, but for some reason, she's always there. And at the most inopportune times. For instance, I was going to FINALLY leave the house today and go shopping because I was feeling up to it and about 5 minutes before I was about to leave I felt like the plague set in. Nausea and what felt like the beginnings of the flu had me back in bed. About an hour later I felt up to going, BUT STILL. The PAIN I had to suffer. Kidding, it wasn't that bad. Actually, I have a better story...

My first vomit. I won't tell you what it was that upchucked because I fear that I might upchuck that same thing again even though I have vowed to never set foot near it again. I had just strolled through the kitchen on my way upstairs to take a shower, when all of a sudden, the nausea set in. Yes, sometimes the smell or thought of food makes me want to vomit. My friends know how much I love food. This is definitely my worst nightmare. 

There I am pacing back and forth in my parents bathroom, when my dad walks in. He asks if I'm okay. I say, I feel nauseous. About 3 seconds later, I say, "I think I'm going to vomit." Stricken with vomit anxiety, I immediately forgot how to assume proper position when upchuck realization is made. So, my dad instructs me. It was very obvious he was confused about why I didn't know how to do this on my own. It was almost as if he was saying, "Did I not raise you to drink enough that you would at least know how to HUG A TOILET?" Okay, so I got into position. And I let it flow. As Melissa McCarthy would say, it came out of me "like lava". My dad saw the whole thing, and he knew exactly what to do in the moment. I finished up and he handed me a few tissues and said, "Wipe your face," and walked out of the bathroom. 

My dad always knew how to address things with me. It is perfect every time. When I make a mistake or vomit my lunch in a toilet, all I really want is for someone to hand me some tissues and say, "Wipe your face." I know what I need to do from there. There's no reason to coddle me. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is... thanks, Dad! (Notice I said my dad knew what to do "in the moment". He brought up the event later at dinner and ruined the appetite of the rest of my family in seconds--WHAT ARE DADS FOR.)

In other news, my sense of taste is almost gone. The doctor told me that food could also have a metallic taste, so I guess no taste is better than eating metal. 

Alright, I know why most of you are here: Peanut. I promised some puppy photos, so here they are.

The Peanut atop a chic wool blanket, imported from Paris, France (Made of real models)

The Peanut. She don't curr. She ain't scurred.