Kill Me Please...

The most embarrassing thing happened the other night.

I've been vomiting post chemo but this came out of no where, and it seemed like there was no reception for compassion in this home by anyone awake at the time, at least.

While I was laying in bed, already asleep for the evening, I felt a warm fluid substance under me.  Yep...you guessed it, either by pee or poo, I had an accident.

The last thing an adult wants to tell another adult is that, "I just soiled the bed."  My case had me in a position where I had to speak up because the baby was going nuts already.  So, I told my husband who seemed annoyed that I just woke him from his slumber on the living room couch.

The good thing--my pajamas and underwear caught the mess before it was too much, and the bed was saved.  The sad thing--all I heard from the mouth of my husband was, "It stinks in here."

Thanks hun.  In a moment I kinda' needed a moral boost, I heard that I make the house stink.

I seriously would rather be dead today.

Cancer sucks, and it steals all the energy out of everyone so that a support system doesn't even exist in the end.  And once you're there, without support, you would do just about anything to have your support system feel what a day feels like in your life so they would have compassion still.

Ya, some days, I think I'm just the female version of Job, asking God why he hates me so much.  I'm sorry God, but I have tried and witnessed Your name all my days.  This is not right.

Sorry for the blunt negativity--I'm just finding that once your last chemo is done, and by done I mean, the IV infuser is beeping because the bag is empty, the world seems to think you are better.  Hell, I feel like slaughtered meat that still needs to go through the grinder.

Farewell for tonight.

Your fellow sufferer,
Crys