Just before bed.

Heh.


I'm noticing, as I'm reading through my older posts that every once in a while I leave a word or two out in each sentence. Do pardon me, this is entirely unintentional. I believe this is a mistake I've made when I was entirely, well, sober. As things progress, I hope to remain able each day to record a good part of my day.


Which brings me to another point. Yesterday's blog was written while I was under heavy influence. And tonight, I fear, I have just taken another dosage of Anti-Nausea medication, which makes me rather drowsy. *Ahem* Reading over yesterday's post, it was a trifle... um, blunt, I suppose. I think my readers will have to face that fact that I'll be probably a bit more meandering and intrusive when I'm stoned. Again, a thousand pardons, but, like I've been saying, read on if you dare. I wish this to be an open book to all of my thoughts and feelings for these sessions of Chemotherapy.


So then.


One fascinating side effect of the Chemo is a very heightened sense of smell. Which adds greatly to the nausea, I would say. It does strike me as very interesting to be able to smell all the candies in their individual baggies at Wal-Mart, and when someone across the room opens their mouth to speak, I can smell every aspect of their breath. Mind you, I would not have said I had any sense of smell before this all started. I'd be the last to pick out smells of any kind. Usually, the only smells I can smell is food I have held up to my nose or the occasional very strong fragrant candle that I have to nearly insert into my nostril before I can smell it.


But now, imagine if you will, walking through the busy isles of Winco. To your right are big piles of dog food on sale, at your left are countless bakery goods, sweet and savory. Numerous milling shoppers who are chewing gum, wearing a faint amount or a monstrous quantity of cologne assail me. All these smells send so many disturbing signals through my brain at once, it shall be a journey in itself for me to get used to this new sensation.


On the other side of this is just one single smell that I can allow myself to be completely enveloped in. Oddly enough, I found myself highly interested in a slowly heating skillet that had just a spritz of Pam in it. It may sound like a very mundane thing, but I found there were very many complex, flavors, if you will, in that single smell mingled with the iron of the skillet and the heating elements of the stove burner.


And I was not so very nearly stoned this morning, when I smelled that, either.


Probably enough obsessiveness of that subject, I think.


So, I shall bring this to a close. One day, I wish to write a lot more, but I find myself very drained, lately. I slept a lot during the daylight yesterday, which always disorients me. It seems I closed my eyes several times, and was confused to find it later in the day, but not feeling any more rested.


I have a lot of thoughts always milling about in my head, and I shall have plenty of time in the future to address many of these thoughts. I think there are many frightening as well as uplifting sentiments so many people in my situation are feeling. These sorts of problems can make people so different, and can mold them into something stronger and victorious, and yet have crushed so many others into devastating pieces. This, I truly believe, is the real reason I want to write, and to express all of my feelings. There's so much to say that is so hard to put into words, but I intend to give them voice. For myself, and for all the survivors that have never expressed them, and for all that we have lost and never will be able to tell their story.


And now, I really must say, I wish to leave you, my readers.
Bed is calling, but I wanted to hang out with Clint for a little while longer. I figured he and I should time our bed times to be about the same. We both get in a bit of play time together before we both crash. Well... He doesn't so much crash when he goes to bed, but gibber away in his room until he's tired. Silly Monkey...


May each and every one of you find your true voice. It may frighten you, and you may not want to hear it. Undertake this journey, ask many questions, and listen to what it has to say. Find the "You" that has been so deeply suppressed.


And perhaps, my lucky readers, my next posting shall be when I'm sober. Just might be. Hmm... But I wouldn't bet on it.