Archives for category: PTSD

There I was, just sitting in the chemo lounge, politely minding my own business. All dandy in my barcalounger, port numbed and plugged in for my five hour poison infusion; a couple of Star Magazines and a National Enquirer in my lap, blanket nicely tucked in, ginger ale and a box of DOT’s (aka anti nausea meds) at the helm.

That was at least how she left me. But that is not how she found me.

Chemo Nurse Extraordinaire Marci was quite used to finding me engaged in the bizarre rituals I used to manage my anxiety. But even a seasoned pro like her was not prepared for what she saw when she turned the corner to find me well, lets just say, far from how she left me. National Enquirer splayed on the floor, tears streaming down my face, fingers in both ears, frantically and loudly humming the theme song from the Flintstones. Without skipping a beat (as if she saw this every day) she calmly said, “Lauren, what in the world is wrong now?” Note the word “Now.” If I thought 15 months of chemo was never ending hell, well imagine poor Marci…but I digress. Read the rest of this entry »

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My 84 year old neighbor Frances has taught me a lot about the world, like the difference between lima beans and butter beans and that you need to wrap a folded paper towel around a can of Coca Cola to have with your pack of Nabs. One of the more important things I have learned from her is the difference between “over yonder” and “way out yonder.”  Over yonder is someone up the street from us, you can walk over yonder, but way out yonder is like someone in Missouri.  I just love Frances. Read the rest of this entry »

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