Sunday, June 23, 2013
Moments of Weakness
This week has been tough. No way to sugar coat or spin it in a positive way. I hit a new low.
So after trying twice to get chemo and not being allowed due to low blood counts, I managed to get it done Monday. But I think the emotional and physical toll of preparing myself day after day to do it took that much more out of my reserves and boy did I feel it. It was just me and the captain this week as the man and monkey were on holiday. In some ways it was good they weren´t here to witness my demise but I also think that I didn´t have the usual distraction that I have when they are here. All I could focus on was how god damn awful i felt and I felt AWFUL! This week I finally understood why people reject treatment. I remember watching cancer specials on TV and being in total shock when people rejected treatment following a relapse. How could they give up? How could they say no? It made absolutely no sense to me. But yesterday when I was on day 6 of feeling like sheer hell, I sent a text to my unofficial doctor - Dr Sunshine. It said " I don´t think i can do this again. I have nothing left." She literally phoned me within 30 seconds of my sending the text and I couldn´t even get words out as I was crying. Being able to have a cancer specialist on call like this who also gets me is invaluable and it helped talk me back from the ledge yesterday. Because I didnt want to go through this again and even though i have only one left, I can´t imagine being able to get through even "only one" right now. I have a new perspective on "quality of life" and the importance of it. But I am pleased to report that after our conversation, I felt slightly better and she reminded me why I was doing this and that right now everything feels so very dark but that there is light. Somewhere down this deep hole, it is there - I promise she says.
Today I have woken feeling better then yesterday. I managed to put on jeans today instead of track pants which I take as a huge sign that things are getting better. I am trying to look ahead and know that with every day, I will feel better. I really can´t think about the next round or what comes after that. It just isn´t helpful. I think things go minute by minute, hour by hour and day by day in this marathon. My focus now is to recover from the last round and nothing else. I think in some ways my body and mind protects me by forgetting how bad each one has been. The lines blur between what was worse and why. Call it selective memory or call is survival.
So I will enjoy having my family back with me and the welcome distractions it brings. I will focus on tomorrow being better then today. That is all I can do...take it one step at a time.
But cancer sucks. I hate it.