Thursday, September 25, 2003

I keep trying to say this, and maybe no one listens, or maybe no one cares. Or maybe people just think I am joking, or it is 'someone else'.

The Cisplatin has caused my eardrums to swell. Every sound is incredibly amplified. Every sound hurts. Speaking? Hurts. Extended noise? brings vomit and nausea. The ceiling fan? sounds like a helicopter. The air under the pillow over my head reverberates like waves on a beach.

Before you pickup the phone to say hello, think about this, I am probably laying in bed, with pillows over my head, in tears. trying my best to hold down the last few bites of food. Keeping the bile at the back of my throat.

Please PLEASE

Email me. Send a card, send a letter, email, burn a candle, write a poem, think healing thoughts. But please don't pick up the phone. If you have to, phone, imagine, 'would I willingly walk to his house and smack him in the head with a hammer, repeatedly?' Cause that is what the phone does to me.

Caring is good. Telephone is bad. Very BAD. Sara suggests I turn it off, but I can't, someone could be calling with something important, for work, or someone needs help, or my realtor needs me to sign a letter for the house sale, so I have to leave it on.

But Please. it kills me. Email. I love email. it does not hurt.

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