This time tomorrow, I will have one more chemo left. I have however felt sick all day thinking about tomorrow. This is a great lesson in willpower. Come September 25th, nothing will ever require this amount of willpower. Want some cake? Nope. What would you like to do today? A jog. Anyone for wine? No thanks I'll have some water. Easy. Very easy. Anything is when you compare it to dragging yourself into that chemo room. All in the name of life though. I hope I can apply the same conviction to everything else I want to achieve once this is all over. Now that I know it can be done I have no excuses. Something tells me however that all I will ever want to achieve is having fun and not having cancer. I probably had more ambition before this happened. Then again, 'not having cancer' seems like a fairly sensible life goal right?
So this has been a relatively uneventful 'good' week. No major health scares, no clots, extreme pain, crazy numbness or unexpected side effects at all. Mr. Extreme Fatigue is alive and well and other than that and the lingering clot issues and the usual GI issues it has been plain sailing. I'm kind of hoping I've had all the 'in rare cases' side effects and that there will no more surprises. Then again, I've gone and had that thought now which mean's fate will more than likely strike me down with something crazy this week. Blue limbs or something. Oh no wait, I've had that.
On the subject of blue limbs, the arm clots are still improving. The biggest clot related issue is now the stomach bruises at the injection sites. Each day and it's corresponding injection brings a 2-3cm bruise. I have a problem injecting into an already present bruise and am fast running out of space. Maybe it's a good thing that my stomach is double the size it was 6 months ago or else I would have run out of space much sooner. Nonetheless, I'm having to go higher and higher up near my ribs with the injections (even less pleasant than doing it near the belly button). I have however bought two one piece swim suits for the holiday though, so, like so many other things, only poor Nick gets to witness the full horror of the situation. Couple more months of injections and hopefully the only shots I'll be doing will once again be the alcoholic kind. (One day I should do a blog post about the new meanings some pretty everyday words now have to me, the list is growing!)
In other news, I'm pretty sure my new menopausal state is bringing with it hot flushes. I'm ashamed to say I've always brushed this menopause symptom off with a kind of 'oh get over it, so you feel warm for a minute, big deal' attitude that can only come from someone who has never experienced it. Allow me to describe a situation for the other 20 and 30 somethings out there who are yet to experience the joys of what we will all face in 20-30 years....
I'm sitting at a table of 5 friends. The room temperature is perfectly comfortable. I'm wearing a dress with string sleeves and a cardigan. I start to feel warm. 30 seconds later my legs are sweating (????) so I pull my dress up around my thighs under the table. Then my arms are sweating. Off comes the cardigan. My face turns bright red. One friend asks am I warm. Next thing I feel sweat dripping from my forehead into my eyes. I dab them with a napkin. Another friend starts fanning me with a menu. I feel sweat dripping down my back from my head. I lean under the table so nobody can see and pull my wig back to let some air at my head. I use my napkin to dry the sweat off my chest that is falling from the front of my neck. The waitress brings water. 2 friends are fanning me with menus. Within 3 minutes the sweating has stopped, the wig is back on, the dress is back down and I'm sitting with 4 very confused faces looking at me. Hot flush, I say. You need a shorter wig, they say. Good idea.
The next day I'm at the wig place, asking for a smaller, lighter wig. It happens again. The woman who owns the shop is wiping sweat from my head with baby wipes before giving me the wigs to try on while I strip to little more than underwear trying to cool down. I make a mental note to add this to the list of most humiliating cancer experiences. My mother and I are in stitches laughing at how ridiculous this situation is. I pay for my new, shorter, lighter, cooler wig and leave with a new found respect for women who suffer this for years. Never mind fertility, the hot flushes alone are reason enough to want menopause to be temporary.
So, tomorrow is number 11. Today 2 weeks will be number 12. One week before my 28th birthday. No more cancer in my 29th year please. Actually make that any year. I've had enough. Ok? Thanks.
So this has been a relatively uneventful 'good' week. No major health scares, no clots, extreme pain, crazy numbness or unexpected side effects at all. Mr. Extreme Fatigue is alive and well and other than that and the lingering clot issues and the usual GI issues it has been plain sailing. I'm kind of hoping I've had all the 'in rare cases' side effects and that there will no more surprises. Then again, I've gone and had that thought now which mean's fate will more than likely strike me down with something crazy this week. Blue limbs or something. Oh no wait, I've had that.
On the subject of blue limbs, the arm clots are still improving. The biggest clot related issue is now the stomach bruises at the injection sites. Each day and it's corresponding injection brings a 2-3cm bruise. I have a problem injecting into an already present bruise and am fast running out of space. Maybe it's a good thing that my stomach is double the size it was 6 months ago or else I would have run out of space much sooner. Nonetheless, I'm having to go higher and higher up near my ribs with the injections (even less pleasant than doing it near the belly button). I have however bought two one piece swim suits for the holiday though, so, like so many other things, only poor Nick gets to witness the full horror of the situation. Couple more months of injections and hopefully the only shots I'll be doing will once again be the alcoholic kind. (One day I should do a blog post about the new meanings some pretty everyday words now have to me, the list is growing!)
In other news, I'm pretty sure my new menopausal state is bringing with it hot flushes. I'm ashamed to say I've always brushed this menopause symptom off with a kind of 'oh get over it, so you feel warm for a minute, big deal' attitude that can only come from someone who has never experienced it. Allow me to describe a situation for the other 20 and 30 somethings out there who are yet to experience the joys of what we will all face in 20-30 years....
I'm sitting at a table of 5 friends. The room temperature is perfectly comfortable. I'm wearing a dress with string sleeves and a cardigan. I start to feel warm. 30 seconds later my legs are sweating (????) so I pull my dress up around my thighs under the table. Then my arms are sweating. Off comes the cardigan. My face turns bright red. One friend asks am I warm. Next thing I feel sweat dripping from my forehead into my eyes. I dab them with a napkin. Another friend starts fanning me with a menu. I feel sweat dripping down my back from my head. I lean under the table so nobody can see and pull my wig back to let some air at my head. I use my napkin to dry the sweat off my chest that is falling from the front of my neck. The waitress brings water. 2 friends are fanning me with menus. Within 3 minutes the sweating has stopped, the wig is back on, the dress is back down and I'm sitting with 4 very confused faces looking at me. Hot flush, I say. You need a shorter wig, they say. Good idea.
The next day I'm at the wig place, asking for a smaller, lighter wig. It happens again. The woman who owns the shop is wiping sweat from my head with baby wipes before giving me the wigs to try on while I strip to little more than underwear trying to cool down. I make a mental note to add this to the list of most humiliating cancer experiences. My mother and I are in stitches laughing at how ridiculous this situation is. I pay for my new, shorter, lighter, cooler wig and leave with a new found respect for women who suffer this for years. Never mind fertility, the hot flushes alone are reason enough to want menopause to be temporary.
So, tomorrow is number 11. Today 2 weeks will be number 12. One week before my 28th birthday. No more cancer in my 29th year please. Actually make that any year. I've had enough. Ok? Thanks.
Good luck for today Sona!
ReplyDeleteRobert.
I was thinking of you yesterday. Hope the next three/four days fly bye and your back to a good week.
ReplyDelete