The pain I was writing about in my last entry has mostly passed. Phewf.

Neupogen, though. Neupogen is what they give me to get me ready for the next round. It boosts my white blood cell count. It hurts because my bone marrow swells, being stimulated into action by artificial blood enhancers. This, ah, bone swelling, isn't comfortable. Nope. Not at all. Happily, I'm only taking it five days this time.

Have you ever noticed that if it burns going in, it burns going out? I didn't have to have taxotere spoon-fed, thank god! but it still came out the usual way. My anus bleeds. My mouth and throat have raw sores.

I'll be better prepared next time.

MADMEN season three. Disc two. That's where I'm spending the next few hours.

As many of you know, I have worked for years in the 'food-service industry'. I spent long hours on my feet and didn't get a whole lot of money in return, but really enjoyed serving people.

The worst part of working that way was the physical strain - my hips, my shoulders, my low and mid back, my legs, my arms and neck and face, my tailbone... all took their turns giving me pain. More often than not, there was little I could do about it. I couldn't talk about it, I couldn't ask friends for help, I couldn't afford to see a professional, and always seemed to hurt myself more when I exercised or practiced yoga. Sleep, lying down, advil, caffine, alcohol - they were my pain management team. Not very sophisticated, but effective enough to get me through.

Now though, with Taxotere, my new chemo drug, all of those pains are revisiting me. It's truly terrible. I am in an agony of familiar pains. It is surprising and disturbing. I don't know how long it will last.

This photo was taken just after the local Look Good...Feel Better workshop. I've not worn that much make-up in years.

Half way through chemo and it's coming on time for the new drug. I'm on steroids now - to keep my body from swelling when the drug is introduced. When it is injected, I'll be wearing cold mitts and booties. They will slow circulation to the fingertips and toetips, thus preventing my finger and toe nails falling off. Bah-ha!

Dr. Levesque has changed from a grim reaper to a smiling pusher. I must say I like the smiling pusher way better. We laugh about what he's giving me, about the potential side-effects. "It works!" he says, throwing up his arms, knowing it's gonna hurt.

I read to distract myself. It seems to work. I've read the Millennium Trilogy, The Sookie Stackhouse novels, The Drama of the Gifted Child. I've started Museum of Innocence and You Can Heal Your Life. When I read You Can Heal Your Life, I think of a preacher, proclaiming! Makes me giggle.

Peggy is hosting me out at the farm. The lambs came a couple of weeks ago. My parents come to help look after me and Grandma. My friends come out to visit. Things are going well.

The Art Shift program is coming to a close and there will be a group exhibit. Here's the gist of it:
"May 15 - June 26, 2010
Kaethy Yanovsky, Jenny Brown, Erin Milliken, Anna Elmberg-Wright, Catherine Toews
Synergies, selected works by five emerging artists from Kingston
Reception: May 15, 7-9p"
Dad and I drove my submissions over today - we were each holding a side of the largest painting through our windows while it rested on the roof of the car. He drove slowly for a change.