Sunday, November 27


This morning I got out of bed at six am in an attempt to just WAKE UP and avoid the terrors that had been setting down on me from my post-chemo pull out. I dozed a couple of times today, but largely avoided sleep and am now sitting here writing this entry (and thinking of steak) just shy of midnight. Am I tired? Yes. Did I go to bed over four hours ago because I was so tired? Also yes. Am I trying everything in my power not to fall asleep right now because I am afraid of the chemo dreams? Well, no, but close.

This generally takes a few days to ride out and frankly these dreams have always wandered a very strange line. Most dreams, at least in my experience, stay on the side of "strange enough to not be true" that when I am awake I can figure out the difference between the two. Bull chasing me around a farmhouse in Kansas is scary, but when I am awake and in bed in the middle of Houston I know I don't need to worry about a bull killing me in the next five seconds. My post chemo dreams are just a step over the line and tend to be violent. They live on the "we'll be right back after you get back from the bathroom" line and only thirty minutes to an hour of being awake and doing something else, can shake the violence, the hauntingness of the dream.

You'll excuse me if I don't go rushing into sleep. It just seems safer on this side for the next few days.

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