I certainly have not felt like twisting, but mashed potatoes have literally kept me alive this week.
It’s been 10 days since cycle 2 and fuck me. That was rough.
What I thought I was prepared for from cycle one was nothing. Mini cheddars were going to save me from nothing the time round. I knew it was a progressive sickness and I knew it was going to be worse than last time but the intestate I was not expecting. From leaving hospital after my treatment, I felt ok. I had spoken to the nurses regarding my sickness and had been given different medication. I took it straight away and headed home with my sisters armed with a beef ramen and waited. Friday wasn’t too bad. The nausea set in a few hours later, I took myself off to bed and thought I knew what awaited. The weekend was hell. I the nausea went from what people said was bad morning sickness to severe food poisoning. The smell of anything and everything made my physically sick. Added to that, motion, moving or talking. The torture is that added symptoms that just pileup. The steroids that are meant to stop you big sick, also like to give you acid reflux that makes you want to rip out your own throat. So not only are you feeling sick and being sick, you're on fire. And the only way to stop it is to eat something. But it makes you sick. The whole thing is sick!
On Monday morning I called the chemo day unit to let them know the new sickness meds were defo not a hit here. I was taken straight into hospital and spent the day hooked up on an IV drip to get more sickness meds into me and try to get hydrated. This was another trauma to face. Chemo, dehydration and bad veins are not a good combo. I couldn’t get annulled to give fluids or to take bloods. 2 hours of trying to be cannulated. It defo took my mind off my sickness for a bit. Anyway, I was sent on my way armed with 7 more days of steroids and sickness tablets and praying my little head off. Shit didn’t get any better. For the next 3 days I vomited and lobbed about the house like the most pathetic person on this earth. Full of steroids you can’t sleep it off, I zombie my way through the week. The saving grace was that I realised I really wanted mashed potato. My Mam made a portion, and it went down a treat. That was my staple. I could eat. Thank the lord. Room temperature mashed potato was going to save me. By Friday my mighty boost moon face reducing and the sickness easing to just nausea. I had to address toilet issue after 5 days which also made me feel so much better after that trauma was done. I had a pure party kids party tea had a hot dog and chips and it was the best feeling to get something on my tummy and enjoy it. Life wasn’t seeming so horrendous.
As crap as it’s been this last 10 days, I am grateful for the same pattern. Although more intense, 7 days chemo sickness and 2 days of bone pain and insomnia. Done. As long as it doesn’t get for longer at least I know where I stand with my ‘nice’ days. From tomorrow I should feel like a new woman if the last cycle was anything to go by. Today got to go through all of my phone messages and open my cards and sort out a weeks’ worth of my life. I had to post the appreciation picture of the get well soon cards. This is the shit that literally gets me though.
I feel like that was a massive pity party for Sunday night. Let’s relax and reset and get ready to kick the arse out of Monday.
