Goodbye feeling well, see you in a week. Tomorrow is chemo number 3. None of the dread of the previous times however, I am eager for it to happen. The quicker it happens, the closer I am to number 4 after which I get scanned to see if it's all actually working.
If it was a guaranteed cure at the end, it would be a lot easier to endure the chemo. The thought that I could be going through all this, just to be told at the end that I'm actually worse than I was at the start is unbearable. This scan is therefore a huge milestone for me. I think it's working. I think I'm getting better. I could drive myself mad poking myself in the neck trying to figure out if they're smaller or unchanged or, god forbid, bigger. I try not to touch my neck. Like I try not to think about it not working. Like I try not to take my temperature every 5 minutes, waiting for some infection that's going to land me in hospital. Like I try to avoid mirrors so I don't have to think about my baldness and my soon to be gone eyebrows and eyelashes. Like I try to not think about the next 5 months. Head in the sand. Ostrich approach. There's a lot to be said for it. Maybe it's never actually sunk in that I really do have cancer. I hope it never does.
I ran into an acquaintance of my parents today ' Wow, you don't look sick!'. She quickly caught herself and said 'I mean, you look great'. It was probably the best thing anyone could have said to me. Here I was, in all my scarved glory and I didn't look sick. That's a big accomplishment for a bald cancer patient, it made my day!
In the post today I got a lovely photo in a frame, what looks like half an accessorize shop's worth of earrings (for when I'm not wearing my wig) and some lovely cards. Thanks to all for yet again, more presents, thoughts and kind wishes.
Tune in tomorrow afternoon for an update on Chemo 3.
If it was a guaranteed cure at the end, it would be a lot easier to endure the chemo. The thought that I could be going through all this, just to be told at the end that I'm actually worse than I was at the start is unbearable. This scan is therefore a huge milestone for me. I think it's working. I think I'm getting better. I could drive myself mad poking myself in the neck trying to figure out if they're smaller or unchanged or, god forbid, bigger. I try not to touch my neck. Like I try not to think about it not working. Like I try not to take my temperature every 5 minutes, waiting for some infection that's going to land me in hospital. Like I try to avoid mirrors so I don't have to think about my baldness and my soon to be gone eyebrows and eyelashes. Like I try to not think about the next 5 months. Head in the sand. Ostrich approach. There's a lot to be said for it. Maybe it's never actually sunk in that I really do have cancer. I hope it never does.
I ran into an acquaintance of my parents today ' Wow, you don't look sick!'. She quickly caught herself and said 'I mean, you look great'. It was probably the best thing anyone could have said to me. Here I was, in all my scarved glory and I didn't look sick. That's a big accomplishment for a bald cancer patient, it made my day!
In the post today I got a lovely photo in a frame, what looks like half an accessorize shop's worth of earrings (for when I'm not wearing my wig) and some lovely cards. Thanks to all for yet again, more presents, thoughts and kind wishes.
Tune in tomorrow afternoon for an update on Chemo 3.
I'm finding your blog fascinating and eductational all at the same time, im not going to give you condolences etc on what your going through because i don't really feel you need them, i've never met you but i genuinely admire you. x #KeepBlogging
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