Infusions 9 & 10

I’m having a difficult time keeping up with all the public shootings. I emerge from my chemo haze to hear about riots in Charlotte from another police shooting and a child shot and killed by another child (and his funeral of superhero-costumed classmates). It’s all so tragic.

And now we have clowns???!!! Clowns piled into cars, armed with guns and chainsaws, clowns attempting to abduct children and descend upon schools, clowns robbing fast-food restaurants, clowns terrorizing people with horns and gun emojis. And the public’s response: police arresting clowns and interrogating children who have sighted them, moms kicking clowns, schools closing to avoid clown attacks, mobs armed with golf clubs, hockey sticks and shovels to hunt down clowns.

One clown posted a photo of himself holding a sign in front of an Oregon school. The sign was succinct and ominous: “We are here.” And indeed they have arrived on the West Coast. I received an email from Portland Public Schools two days ago. The school district stated that they are working with the Portland Police Bureau to monitor the situation and—most importantly— that social media is not the best source of information. Imagine that. 

But in what world are public shootings normalized and clowns are not? And how am I missing all of this??? 

So many major events and life changes have occurred since I began chemo in the spring. It feels like everyone's lives have been fast-forwarded on a hyper-speed film reel, people jumping and scooting around like harried stick figures; the sun and moon arcing through the sky like the second hand of a clock; the shadows of clouds billowing and evaporating dramatically across rooftops, parks and trees; Portland's flowers synchronized together, opening and closing to mark each day.

Meanwhile, I move in slow-motion, standing in the bathroom naked and hairless. I look into the mirror with heavy lids and a slack jaw and pull a single hair off my sparse brow. It rests on my fingertip and I blink. I sluggishly turn my finger over and watch that part of my eyebrow fall into the sink.

Then all of a sudden, everything outside is brown and yellow and wet.

Infusions 9 and 10 were reduced doses of Taxol. I'm still neutropenic but able to have chemotherapy until my neutrophils go below 800. I was at 600 when I had to take a break. I will receive the regular dose when my neutrophils increase up to 1,500. I'm currently at 1,100.

With this second half of my treatment, the nurses give me Benadryl just in case I have an allergic reaction to the drugs. In some of the pictures my eyes are droopy and my smile is crooked because I'm completely high. And in others, we simply (ahem) clowned around. Don't report us to the authorities!