Every time I approach the voluptuous pleasure of submitting myself to yet another tortuous treatment, I think "I will be an exception, it will not be that bad". Well, if life and work had developed my overconfidence in my own exceptionalism, cancer has debunked it.
I have made my way through all possible side effects. A sobering activity for someone who, instead of traveling the world, has been grounded during the last six months.
Neulasta has been the latest addition to my nightmares. Besides costing almost as much as my body, it has been as brutal as the poisoning itself. It gave me--and the majority of people who get the experience--acute bone pain. Obviously that means, in my case, having that distinctive shooting pain in my spine back.
What are my Fridays out of the hospital good for, if they are overpowered by Neulasta?
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