Part 15
"Barf Chronicals"

Over the course of a 12 week chemotherapy treatment, you barf quite a bit. Sometimes you would barf because of a certain smell. Sometimes it would be something you ate. Other times it would be for no apparent reason. All I know is that I barfed more in those twelve weeks than most people barf in their lives. Here are some of the "Barf Tales" that come to mind:

I was sitting down in my chair in the IV room watching a movie. My mom had just brought me some food form the cafeteria. Now, this cafeteria wasn't like most cafeterias' around the world. They actually had some pretty good food. Anyway, after my mom dropped off the food she left the room for a couple of minutes. While she was gone I attempted to eat my lunch, even though I had "white tongue" at the time. I just about finished half of it when I started to feel that gurgling feeling in my stomach. Without hesitating I grabbed for my handy dandy bucket which I kept close by. "Bye-bye lunch!"

I still had white tongue. Food just was not tasting good. Mama recommended that I go visit her favorite Chinese restaurant (I forget the name but it is on Bridgeport in Lakewood). She highly recommended the soup. One day, my mom and I went out to lunch at this restaurant to try some of this good soup. There wasn't that many people in the restaurant that day, so we got seated and served right away. Since I had "white tongue" I knew I wasn't going to eat too much, so my mom and I decided to slip one of the entrées. All I really wanted was some of the soup. The waitress brought us out meal and I started to eat. I had only taken about two spoonful's before I felt the stomach thing again. I ran to the bathroom as fast as I could. My eyes started to blur when I got in there. A second later, I threw up all over the sink. "Um…check please!"

I was over at mama's house watching TV in the living room. I had already thrown up several times before that day. Mama thought that some of her soup and rice would take care of the problem. Just in case, I tagged along my handy dandy throw up bucket. I ate all of the food that she gave me and tried to keep it in. I could feel myself getting sick but I didn't want to throw up again. Why does this have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? Hold it in Cliff, hold it… "Blaahhh!!!!!!" Good thing I brought the bucket.

I was playing at Roof & Doof's one Friday. I had just got done with 8 hours of chemo. I was feeling pretty sick but I just couldn't miss the gig. Just to make sure I'd be able to do it I ate a couple "anti-nausea" pills. I made it through the first set, barely. After the last song of our set I went to the bathroom. "Blaaahhh!!!" After I threw up all of my Chicken Gumbo, I grabbed a peppermint and got ready to play the second set. I made it through the second set fine,…well, I didn't throw up on the stage or anything. Time for my bathroom break. "Blaahhh!!!" Time to get the breath mint. By the time the night was over my reed was tasting like Chicken Gumbo, Peppermint, and stomach acid all at once. I think I still used it though the following week. (I know, I know…"gross")

Those were some rough times. I think I am going to stop writing now. I'm starting to get the feeling again just writing about it...

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