Weave

 

Mustache

 First #Inktober2025 prompt is mustache and I’ve been informed by Thing One that I gotta do pirates as a theme this year, so here goes!

Red Devil

 

In case you haven't figured it out already, my superpower is finding silver linings. I don't just lean towards positivity, I'm pretty much rooted there. If there is good in a situation, I'm likely to trip over it. 

So I added googly eyes to my "Red Devil" chemo. My doc asked me why. I told her it was to remind me that it was a friend, not a foe, and that it is to help me and not hurt me. She said she'd never seen anyone do that before. 

I'd heard stories of other patients who have had it and how it wipes you out. Zero energy. But it's also, from what I've read, excellent at killing cancer cells at every stage of growth. Sounds like an excellent weapon to employ. 

Am I tired? You bet. Do I still plan to take my 3 mile walk today? Also yes- not gonna squander that sunshine while it lasts! Do I have laundry on the line? Also yes. Am I drinking my water- the goal is 64 ounces daily- yes. I'm at about 32 done right now, so not too shabby. 

(Here is where I fell asleep the first time attempting this post.)

So to back up, my first AC chemo (Adriamycin and Cyclophosphamide) was on Monday. They started me with about 4 anti-nausea meds, at least one of which that lasts 72 hours. I just looked up some more stuff about those and, holy cow, I should just stay off the Internet. Adriamycin also goes by Red Devil, hence the googly eyes to remind me it's a friend; it kills cancer in every stage of its life cycle and prevents replication. Also some serious side effects in addition to less serious ones like hair loss. (Been there, done that, Jeep hair, don't care.)

But effects on the heart is nothing to sneeze at, so they'll be keeping a close eye on me just as they did with my year of Herceptin. As far as I know, this is only 4 cycles AND I have the benefit of some wiggle room: since it used to be given every three weeks, I can do that so I don't have a treatment right before Thanksgiving, wahoo! They've discovered when they add a Neulasta patch to bump up your cell production that they can shorten the cycle to two weeks between each treatment, but also can give the grace week for scheduling purposes. Whilst I don't mind being a lightning bug (the patch attaches to your arm and blinks for 27 hours until it does your 45 minute injection and then the light clicks to red and it turns off. Then you remove it.) it is on my left side because of the risk of lymphedema being elevated on my right side. Well, guess who generally sleeps on her left side? Haha. Them's the breaks. 

Round One is done. 

I started this post yesterday afternoon, then had to pause to take a nap. Did my 3 mile walk later, had a good sleep, all that jazz, and had a two hour nap today before I got back to the blog! Then whilst reading the "how to get through chemo" parts of the literature it said take naps if you need to but try to keep them to about 30 minutes. Whoops.

I'm to drink tons of water and am doing well in that regard. Might just float away. People are asking how to help and our fridge and freezer are FULL, so remind me to drink water. Not rum*, not Fireball, no Mike's Hard Lemonade. 

Water.

And ginger ale and Gatorade and schedule IV fluids if I feel I need them. Thankfully ice cream is not forbidden, though I don't think that counts as liquids. Shucks. And I know half of you just shouted, "MILKSHAKES!" I hear you. =)

So far, so good. I am a bit alarmed that I already feel more... chemically... than I feel like I should- this is cumulative and that was only my first and yikes- but maybe cells in my body are now on full alert running around hollering, "enemies foreign and domestic! Move, move, move!"

The election coverage isn't helping, haha. Dada hears my hugs sighs of exasperation and doesn't even look up from what he's doing to remark, "why do you even READ about it?" *Grumble, grumble, grumble* 

Go vote. You have a voice. Go use it. 

Anybody needs a napping buddy, come on over! 

Apologies in advance for future continuity issues and/or lack of proofreading. I dunno how people hold down jobs during this unless it's love for and support from their coworkers (which I can absolutely see). Hang on to your brain cells, friends, cuz I'm gonna need 'em!

* Also, and yes, Mom, it took me this long to figure it out, but I think I now know why stereotypical sailors head straight for alcohol upon landing. After months at sea, becoming used to the six different motions of a ship on a sea, then landing to discover only gravity is working against you has gotta feel WEIRD. I think they use alcohol to recalibrate their fluid looseness that is their "usual/normal" state when at sea! Self medication. Makes sense to me!

Pirates and Maps

So when you're teaching Kindergarteners about maps, who do you enlist to help?

Pirates, of course!

Alas, I don't have a picture of it, but the class even made black paper pirate hats with paper parrots attached. I can say with all certainty that Carrie looks adorable with it on her head, but I have yet to see it on the resident Kindergartener.

Tigers

Part of the 40th anniversary weekend for Dada's parents involved taking the entire family to a Pirates game at PNC Park in Pittsburgh. They were playing the Detroit Tigers that night, and wouldn't you know it, we ended up sitting right in front of some boisterous Tigers fans. They would holler and cuss and carry on until Liam turned around with his hands over his ears and scowled at them. He said, "stop yelling!" There were about four of these guys and they all cracked up. The loudest one said, "sorry, little buddy. I'll try to stop. I get excited sometimes." All would be fine for a few minutes, and then there would be a call they disagreed with, so there would be more creative yelling at the umpire or at the ref or whatever seemed called for. Again, Liam would turn around and admonish, "you're yelling again!" They'd laugh again and console him, "sorry, little man. I won't yell anymore, I promise. Shake on it." He held out his hand, Liam grabs it to shake, and notices that this guy's index finger is missing at least one knuckle and fingernail.

"Hey! Your finger is short!"
"Yeah, I know. I cut it off."

(Insert Mama mentally smacking herself in the forehead AND the Tigers fan. She knows where this is going...)

"You cut it off!?"
"Yeaaaah. But it's okay now."

Oy vey.

Every so often, Liam would turn back around and announce, "your finger is short!" And the guy would answer him. And it would start all over again.

The yelling would resume and then the scolding would be followed by more promises. The Tigers fan even let Liam wear his hard hat, but the condition was he had to cheer for the Tigers. Liam was adamant that he was a pirate. He simply could not grasp the idea that one of the teams was the Pirates. He kept hunting for men with hooks on their hands, parrots, and torn-up clothes and hats. It was pretty funny.

The Pirates did a number on the Tigers, so the Detriot fans left before the game was done. They were clomping down the stairs past us and stopped and said goodbye to all of us. I thought that was nice, that they made an effort, you know? Liam talked about the guy with the short finger a few times since then, but thankfully it hasn't been discussed anytime there have been scissors or knives or anything you'd associate with cutting. I thought for sure there would be all kinds of issues later on, but I was wrong. Whew!