#brain tumors suck

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[leng-m]

I was really hoping I'd start to feel better by this time and be more active with art/stories, but I'm still very sick. I don't remember ever being as sick in my life as I've been the last three months. That little incident back in February turned out to be only the first domino. Unfortunately the medication I was given for it gave me side-effects that have continued until today, months after I've stopped taking the medicine. And it might continue for the forseeable future, sadly. I really really don't want to admit it, but hoping I'd get better soon had only made me more frustrated with my current state. And I think I'll be a tad better off if I just let go of expectations. I'm still around, still lurking and liking posts, but I don't have much energy to really engage in things right now.

[kikibridges13]

Dancing With Your Ghost | Chapter 9's Medical Breakdown

Chapter 9 here.

Full story here.

Hoo boy this was an easy one to write out, but rough on me emotionally. What you see in this chapter is almost a step-by-step of what I got to witness each day for 6 weeks.

Actually, for me, it was about 8.5 weeks, due to the weather, holidays, and being so damn sick, I was admitted to the hospital about a week before Thanksgiving because my gallbladder decided around that it was going to show it's ass in the middle of all that.

This is an excerpt from the blog that I had kept during that time.

Today's office visit was almost painless. It first started with a 12 minute video on what to expect for Radiation Therapy – which all I could think about during the entire thing was how they could have done certain scenes and transitions differently (my degree has officially ruined me. I'm critiquing medical videos now). However, I did pay attention enough to take in what all would be done, which according to their five steps (consultation, set up, simulation, therapy, and post check-up), I'm onto step three.   Today was set-up. First starting with making a mold of my teeth, which will help the doctors make sure that they are treating the same spot each time. While I was biting down on that disgusting putty for five minutes (which almost six hours I can still taste. Blegh.), a nurse was marking three places on my face that would also help make sure everything was aligned each time during radiation. Okay, I guess I could handle having three tiny blue spots on my face for six weeks. And then she pulled out a needle.   Suddenly I'm not liking this idea anymore. Apparently, these marks only show up under a some sort of blacklight or laser beam because I haven't noticed anything largely noticeable. But the nurse dabbed some kind of ink onto the spots she had made with a sharpie, then used the need to push the ink into my skin.   How do people in prison set there and have tattoos done slowly that way? Because those three needle pokes were enough to make me want to run. Or just wince in pain since that wasn't an option. Good thing I was biting down on something during that.   After those were done, I had to have a mask made that would make sure that I wasn't going to move duri\ng the treatment. It looks like a fencing mask that comes down on the bridge of your nose and has to be stretched to go over your head. So once they had it warm enough to stretch, it was placed on my head and stretched, then locked into CT machine. This is where I felt like the Man in the Iron Mask. I definitely had no room to move, so the thing had done its job. Then they did their CT test, and I was finally free.  

My next blog post would be a month later, because what happens to Buck at the end of the chapter somewhere happened to me. As soon as my first treatment ended, not only did I have that constant nauseous feeling all the way home (and I lived an hour and a half away from the hospital I had to go to for treatments, so I was having to make a 3 hour round trip every day for a whole 10 minute treatment), but I had a constant dull headache the entire time. My parents ended up going to work - they had a second shift job at the time - and about 8 hours after that first treatment, I had a headache as tense we see Buck have. I didn't lose consciousness, but honestly that would have been better than 4 hours of intense pain. My parents came home, took me to the ER, and they gave me a shot of painkillers and sent me on my way.

And then I experienced the same thing the next, including actually sickness and extreme hydration.

But we'll see more of that in the next few chapters.

[to2llynottoby]

People complained so much about AAA games this year but has there been a better year for them. like ever

[superanimepirate]

Can today just end already dear lord

[batz]

you dont have to answer this publicly at all if u dont want to obvs but like. i totally get it, my dad also sucked a lot but it really messes me up sometimes that hes not here. like man. coulda had something a halfway normal life yknow? not sure ill ever get over the jealously i have towards folks with two parents :/ but its not weird to be messed up about someone you didnt like/know well i think

RIGHT like ya this dude sucks but like. hes Dead so now theres no chance of him Not Being Shitty. no chance fr him to Magically Redeem Himself like this is some corny lifetime movie or whatever the hell. -_-

its just a weird situation ig. super complicated brain stuff. grief is Weird esp when ur left feeling that grief abt ppl who weren't rlly like. Good ppl when they were alive . idk its tricky

[galacticpanther306]

Welcome home characters and their reactions to hearing that a neighbors mother has stage-4 cancer.

Wally darling:Hi neighbor, what's wrong? Cancer, well who has it? Your mother, oh no that doesn't sound good and it's stage-4! I'm sorry to hear that, hey neighbor how about I make a painting just for you and don't worry it's free.

Barnaby b. Beagle:Hello neighbor, are you ok? What your mom has stage-4 cancer? That's horrible I'm sorry to hear that, I can't imagine what's it's like to have stage-4 cancer let alone having to deal with a loved one going through such a disease, if my mom got stage-4 cancer heck cancer in general I would be feeling a lot of heartbreak and I would be one sad dog.

Eddie dear:Howdy neighbor, what's wrong? Your mother has stage-4 cancer? I'm sorry to hear that that's awful to deal with, come here. *gives a hug* you must be going through some emotional pain hearing about what's happening to your mother, no one should be going through this painful experience.

Frank Frankly:Hi neighbor, what's the matter? That's awful, I'm sorry to hear that your mom has stage-4 cancer and you must be going through some emotional pain hearing that.

Julie joyful:Hellooooooooooooo neighbor, how are you? What your mother has stage-4 cancer?! I'm so sorry to hear that and I hope she beats this disease!

Poppy partridge:Oh hi neighbor, neighbor what's wrong? Oh no that's horrible I'm sorry to hear that your mom has stage-4 cancer, want me to bake you something for you and your mom and maybe knit your mom a hat since she's gonna be going through chemotherapy and lose all her hair on her head? You would love that thank you!

Sally Starlet:Neighbor are you trying to watch me practice before the actual performance? No, well what is it? What?! Your mom has stage-4 cancer?! That's horrible and I'm sorry to hear that as well as how I spoke to you earlier *Gives a hug*.

Howdy pillar:Hi neighbor, have you come to look around and maybe buy something? Neighbor are you ok? Your mother has stage-4 cancer?! That's devastating and I'm so sorry to hear that hope she beats this disease soon.

Welcome home belongs to @partycoffin (you're a true brother to us all).

[cardioasscular]

guess who has a brain tumor lmfao

[misssophiespice]

.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[recreationalcynodont]

we were talking about brain damage and personality changes yesterday and my coworker was like oh yeah i know a guy who went in after a major concussion and it turned out he had a huge tumor on his brain and they took it out and now he’s way nicer, doesnt yell at the waitresses when we go to breakfast anymore.

dave your wife is a waitress. dave why are you hanging out with people who yell at waitstaff. dave.

[kikibridges13]

Two chapters out in just.....4ish hours.

I mean, granted, I had a certain part of chapter 14 written out a long time ago, but ugh I just hurt my heart.

[dorenarox]

Dear diary : Today I accidentally called the fire department because smartphones are assholes and then my dog had a not-quite-seizure.

I am annoyed. Especially about that phone call. I will never touch a phone ever again, FUCK those things, put them in hell where they belong!!!

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist / warning: cancer

“Wait… I’m sorry, I… I think I misheard you…”

The doctor gives you a very kind, but very practiced smile and pats your hand gently. “It’s a brain tumor.”

Oh god. Oh my god. You’re going to throw up. White hot fear rockets up your spine, spreading through every nerve, vessel, piece of tissue like a crack of lightning, obliterating everything in its path.

A tumor. A brain tumor.

“Okay… uh,” you don’t know where to begin. What kind of questions do you ask? What happens next? “Do I… get surgery or something? What… what do I do?” She nods, pointing to something on the tablet screen, scans of your brain lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

She’s explaining something to you, something you don’t really understand, but you vaguely catch the end of it. “-to try to shrink it. The chemo will hopefully do that for us, and we can move to next steps.” Chemo. Chemo?

“Oh.”

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we’re going to do everything we can.” Everything we can?

She sends you home with a stack of papers, pamphlets, and more appointments than you could possibly remember.

Your empty apartment suddenly feels more sad, more morose than it ever has before, and for the hundredth time today, you think of Simon and Johnny.

Pathetically, you want to call them.

Maybe Simon would let Johnny come over. Maybe he’d let Johnny hold you.

Maybe Simon would even want to hold you too. You snort. Unlikely.

Instead of someone to lay with, be with, you slip fitfully into a restless sleep, buried in a pile of pillows.

Your days turn into Russian roulette.

You meet your oncologist, you start chemo. You take medical leave from work, considering you can’t do anything except go back and forth between appointments, and try not to think about the monster that’s living in your head, sucking you dry. Mornings roll into nights, and you become some sort of zombie, dragging your feet around the building, unable to eat, unable to sleep.

You can sometimes stomach soup though. Soup of all kinds, chicken noodle, ramen, tomato, you name it. It takes two weeks for you to get through your mostly broth diet before you’re forced out into the world to buy some more.

The grocery store is a nightmare. The lights are too bright, the people are too loud, and it’s freezing, even though most people are in shorts and short sleeves.

You’re bundled up. It’s a little ridiculous.

You take your time in the soup aisle with your basket, glancing over your options, trying to push down your nausea and figure out what you might feel like eating later. It’s a daunting task, considering what you threw up before you left the flat.

You fill your basket with as much as you think you might need, ignoring the throbbing in your head as much as possible, and round the corner to the frozen section, looking for some ice cream. Something sweet doesn’t sound so bad, you think. Maybe some mint chocolate, or cookies and cream.

You stand in front of the frosted doors, debating your options, oblivious to the world.

Oblivious until you hear someone calling your name.

When you turn your head, there’s a flash of a mohawk from the corner of your eye, and then Johnny is standing in front of you with his jaw dropped.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi?” He bleats. “Hi? Bonnie, ye… ye look-“

“Like shit?” You finish for him, unimpressed, and he shakes his head.

“No. Sick. Are ye alright?” Truly, you want to lie. Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to come home with you, cuddle you, help you.

You can’t though. You know you can’t.

Johnny’s heart doesn’t belong to you. Neither does Simon’s.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just tired.” His eyes narrow, your own heart bleeds. “Swear.” He shakes his head.

“Ye’re lying.” You’re about to tell him to mind his business, to tell him you’re not his business anymore, when his eyes go incredibly soft, and he steps closer. “If this is about what happened-“

“I don’t… I can’t do this.” You move away, backwards. “I just wanted to get some ice cream. I don’t want to do this with you.” You cast a mournful look at the freezers behind him, and then turn away, a barely there goodbye whispered over your shoulder.

[cyberphuck]

Robin Hobb: *writes the absolute gayest slowburn romance in the history of fantasy literature* Robin Hobb: Oh my god they’re not gay you people are disgusting

[apollotronica]

I AM FUCKING SICK