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Please begin with an informative title:

This diary is for my dad, even though he will never see it, and it is also to get things off my chest, even though it's not politically related.  My father is, for the most part, a good man, but can be a very stubborn, outspoken, hurtful person.  Today he hurt me probably more than he ever has in my whole life, that & the steroid included in my chemo are why I'm up at 3am typing furiously but as gently as possible.  Continue below the orange squiggle at your own risk.

Intro

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Today I had chemo which sucks pretty bad and I feel like crap for at least a week afterwards.  The side effects start almost immediately after the infusion of oxaliplatin starts.  Right now I have pin & needles in my fingers & hands from nerve damage so it is actually painful to type but I must so that I remain sane.  Not only do I have the pins & needles but the skin on my hands has thickened, cracked open, and is peeling off, which is a side effect of my other chemo drug 5FU - which I think is a particularly fitting name.

My father takes me for my chemo treatments because I'm not able to drive myself home afterwards.  As I have mentioned before, I am single and have no one else who is able to take me due to their jobs, etc.  I'm sure I could find assistance with this but my dad's willing to take me and I'm thankful for that except for when we get back to my house from the chemo and he starts harassing me & making me feel like a lazy, depressed piece of shit.

Today was particularly bad.  My house is messy; I have two young daughters and have been pretty much laid out from all the side effects of the chemo, not to mention I had a hefty abdominal surgery in September with which I had complications and which has just healed up within the last week.

It started out with "How did your mother raise you?  Did she raise you to leave dishes in the sink, were you brought up to be so messy with things sitting out around your house not put away?"

Me:  "Actually dad, if you had been around you'd know that I had to do all of the cleaning and laundry from a young age because mom didn't do it at first and couldn't do it later.  You'd have known that if you didn't only see us once every two weeks when you picked us up and dropped us off.  Why do you care anyway that my house is a mess?  Usually no one is here but me and the girls, Dan (my brother) once in while, and you.  I don't have people just dropping by to visit, I literally can't do as much as I could before surgery and chemo, and I can't worry about that right now so I really don't care that there's a mess.  I can't do everything by myself."

My dad: "It must be really hard to get up every morning with all of that depression and anger.  You have to make yourself happy.  Maybe if you cleaned and did more around the house you'd be happy.  You can't even sit at your dining room table and eat a meal.  What if someone stops by for dinner?" (yes dad, the table is filled thanks to you because you're the one who set a giant storage box full of crap that I have no where to put, but that's beside your point of me being a giant, filthy slob)

Me:  "Again dad, NO ONE just stops by, especially to eat a meal.  If my friends come over, it's planned, it's usually after dinner, a lot of time they bring their kids, and I clean up before hand.  Since the chemo makes me so ill I haven't been able to keep up with everything, and again, I am single and very rarely get help.  I can't even feel my hands except for the pins & needles.  I have to ask my 10 year old daughter just to open bottled water or foodstuffs for me because I can't.  So I'm not being lazy, I have cancer."

My dad:  "Oh so you're saying that you don't appreciate me coming over and putting your dishes in the dishwasher and all of the other stuff I do for you?"  (Which is pretty much nothing other than opening my mail and complaining about what I haven't done)

Me:  "No dad, that's not what I said.  I said that I can't get to everything and I can't worry about what I can't do right now.  I'm trying to concentrate on getting better, I feel pretty horrible most of the time since I'm on the strongest chemo they can give me - I even get to take a pump of additional 5FU home to infuse over two days."

My dad:  "You need professional help.  I have never seen someone so angry and depressed and I just don't understand why. (I'm 36 with stage IV colon cancer) I can't believe you get up every day.  I hope some day your kids are as angry at you and then you'll know how I feel."  Slams door as he walks out.

Thanks for that.  No wonder I need professional help.

Extended (Optional)

Originally posted to smartEpants on Wed Nov 28, 2012 at 01:13 AM PST.

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