Thursday, 26 January
For the first time since all this began, I cried for myself today. I’ve been feeling increasingly unhappy since Sunday, day 5 of this final chemo cycle. If you’ve read my previous posts, you might guess that it has to do with food. I had hoped that a reduced dose might mean that my taste receptors would not be affected as badly, but it seems to be worse. Feel free to stop reading now while I have a little pity party.
I know it will start to get better in a few days as the magic poison leaves my body once and for all, but I just want to be able to eat normally again, or at least to have some pleasure from eating. I rack my brain all day trying to think of something new I could try. Nothing appeals.
Today I made myself eat my porridge with jam, had some pineapple with ice cream which was not unpleasant, then some sweet and salty popcorn which actually tasted like it should but was not what I wanted to eat. I haven’t felt unwell at all these past few days, no nausea or sickness, no pain, etc, and HCA and I both cheered when he gave me the last of the bone marrow injections last night! But I have no energy and my weight is falling like a lead balloon again, having recovered quite well after the last cycle. Our walks are very short and very slow. Thank goodness for Netflix! I didn’t watch Downton Abbey when it first ran on TV and it’s keeping me entertained now.
HCA and I went for a walk late this afternoon. He knew I was struggling and said something about it being “rough”. That was enough to set me off and I had a good little cry. Just a little one. And now I’ve got that off my chest (pardon the pun), it’s time to pick myself up, give thanks for all the blessings of life (and there are so many I couldn’t begin to name them here), and look forward to a slap up meal (and then some) in the very near future. As to what that will be, I’ll be spoilt for choice.
If you’re still reading, thank you. I’m feeling so much better already!
Big love xx
