I’m anxious about my appointment with the new oncologist today. It’s always bad enough by itself, but now I have to meet this new doctor. I’m worried I’m going to dislike him. I have to try to not judge him too harshly. I loved my previous oncologist, and it isn’t this guy’s fault that Naughton nearly killed his wife. I’m so disappointed and sickened by all of that.
Ugggghhhhh. People suck.
To be fair, I used to dislike my rheumatologist, but she has grown on me. This could end up like that. Or I could just like him immediately. That is possible, Jenn. I guess I’ll know soon.
Oh and I’m certain he’s going to try to get me back on tamoxifen or some similar drug, but I’m going to fight it. I gave up my ovaries so I didn’t have to take anymore meds. I GAVE UP MY OVARIES FOR THIS FUCKING DISEASE. And my breasts, of course. And my hair. And so much else that is hard to convey with words. I wish you could step inside of my body for a moment and just feel what I’ve given up. To say I’m exhausted by this, would be the understatement of the century. I’m not sure I can do much more. I’m at a breaking point with this shit.
I didn’t expect this post to turn into this crazed rant, but here we are. It’s always there; simmering near the surface, ready to explode.