#guess the whooping cough and 102 fever were lying mom

[howaboutcastiel]

I wanna just clarify again about the ch3mo and part 3

I don’t have cancer, and technically calling it “chemotherapy” is a fucking over-dramatic way of spinning it, but it is chemotherapy. I take a low dose of what is considered “maintenance” chemotherapy as a targeted immunosuppressant for an autoimmune disease that I have. I have to take the medication (along with a steroid injection) by IV every six weeks, either until I die or until the medicine stops working / I grow antibodies to it, and they switch me to something else.

The disease is somewhat hereditary, and because my parents also have it (though it wasn’t onset for them until their late 30s, for me I was 14/15 and diagnosed at 16), there are a lot of expectations for me to “just suck it up” and act like the medication doesn’t fucking wreck my body.

Some side effects of the medication are general things like nausea, fever, fatigue, but there are long term effects that are like ‘real’ chemo too. For my mom, her hair and nails thinned from similar treatment. I instead develop pretty serious rashes on my scalp, my underarms, and even sometimes my legs. Anywhere that thick hair grows (yes… *there* too), though my hair doesn’t thin from my current meds (it has on other meds before, that was fuckin mortifying). I have peripheral neuropathy which will only continue to increase as the medicine damages the nerves in my hands and feet. It’s not like cancer chemo, I’m not violently ill and losing my hair and prohibited from doing certain things, but it is still draining.

It’s also not a cure for my disease, it’s a treatment of the symptoms. I still live with the disease and it’s own shitty effects on my body. But enough of the pity party. I wanted to clear up that I don’t have cancer, I’m not trying to pretend that I do have cancer, I’m only trying to dramatize my experience and turn it into fanfiction material. I just want someone to take care of me on treatment day. I feel like that has never and will never happen. And I know I don’t need it, I know I’m an adult, I know my parents don’t wallow the way that I do about it.

But I want the boys to take care of me. I just wanna pretend that they would. That they will.