Bet you never thought chemotherapy could be sexy, right? Well that’s why I’m here, to buttram your preconceived notions of all things Cancer. You can have fun, you can enjoy yourself, you can be sexy as fuck.
The peacock silk scarf appeals to those women out there who enjoy some flash and pizazz in a man- bright tail feathers to catch their attention. The messy unshowered greasy hair is for the bad boy trouble maker that they can’t help but loving, despite their best efforts to remove aloof danger from their lives. Bringing it all together is the come hither glance an slight lip pout. It’s a subtle expression, but more powerful than foot rubs and chocolate ice cream when played correctly.
Just kidding, I’m basically the anti-sexy. I can’t keep a straight face for more than a second and I have a very serious giggling problem…but I suppose that is attractive in a boyish charm sort of way, right? It only matters what one woman thinks, though…and she let’s me touch her so I guess I’m doing something right!
Anyway, back to the cancer and the liquid poisons that I have to inject in order to kill it. Today (1/27/2015) was my second full round of chemo. I had a bit of chemo injected into my spine yesterday, but I’m not really counting it as a full session. Today’s drug was Pegaspargase, which me think of a winged horse with a terminal learning disability. It allegedly causes some pretty major reactions in people: liver swelling, allergic reactions, chest pain, severe headache, unexplained bleeding/bruising, weakness of the extremities….basically all of the things. I had to take a dixie cup full of pills prior to the chemo in order to attempt to counteract all of the negatives, and thankfully it did the trick. I’m happy to report that I still feel very good and had an such a small reaction to the meds that I’m considering it negligible.
I wonder if it will even try to put up a fight?