the self-obsessiveness of having cancer

I sometimes, no, often feel I am living in a cocoon. Not a protective one so maybe it's not a cocoon but definately an enclosed space separate from the world. There I obsess about everything to do with the damn treatment, cos let's face it, it's not the cancer itself that is freaking me out, it's the side effects of the treatments.
Anyway, in this little space, me and my latest bugbear and all its paraphernalia is all that matters.
So, right now, it's the yellow gunge which is presently in my mouth which is tightly shut (you have to keep it in for a couple of minutes), and the bottles of it - one on my desk at work and one beside me here. The aim is to overdose, well, to use it as often as I can, on both my dad's advice - he is a doctor - and the nurse at the oncology centre.
Then there is the question of my nails. Tonight am going to pack a few plasters into my bag in case my nails split in half. Two look ominously as if they might; the ridges in the middle of them are raised and solid, stronger than the nails itself.
And then in the background is the haze of the rest of the world. Me? I focus on my little world. What I am currently eating or not eating (tonight tried pizza but it was a bit spicy for my mouth although on Saturday night, pre-oral thrush, the same one was delicious.)
Sitting here listening to this Senegalese guy Ibo talk about physics and maths. Yet what is he doing in SA? Making drums and earning a pittance.
Oh, there the outside world intervened in my little one.