I’m halfway through this shit show. Well, I’m halfway through the first set of 6 chemotherapy cycles. There’s plenty more shit to come along with this breast cancer crap.
To try and combat the sickness I’ve literally been given every anti sickness medication known to man. I had tablets and IV before my chemo treatment on Friday. Tablets during chemo and two sets of sickness tablets to take home along aside another week of steroids. I also was given a up a prescription that I need to start taking 24 hours before my next cycle to get them into my system. After refusing point blank on my first and second cycles, I’ve given in and bought a pill box. That was a life saver after all the additional medication. I’m officially a sick person. I have a Filofax of pills. It’s so much easier though than carrying around boxes and trying to remember to set reminders in my phone.
My treatment was so much easier using the PORT. Straight in with the cannula on the first attempt and then hands free for the full 3 hours of treatment. I can wear pants with a button! I can butter the crackers they give me with ease! What a game changer. More un-needed cancer struggles able to be set aside to be placed on the positive pile.
After my chemo on Friday as soon as I got home, I got sick. An absolute kicker. I wasn’t even getting a nice tea. I did have an amazing sleep however and woke up on Saturday morning literally scared to know how I felt. I didn’t feel sick. I couldn’t believe it. I actually sat up and had a little cry. Could it be real! I got up and showered and had breakfast and sat downstairs and had a relaxing but normal day. I ate food that wasn’t mashed potato (although I did stick to no smell white tasteless carbs). Praise the Lord. Turns out, this was a fucking sick joke (no pun intended). On Sunday we were back to the hell of the vicious sickness and heartburn cycle. Back to sleeping from 9pm-12am and sitting like a zombie all night unable to move for fear of being sick. Unable to eat for the fear of my throat burning itself from the inside out.
Monday and Tuesday got steadily worse. How can I not be getting better as the days go on? What is happening here?! On Tuesday I couldn’t get out of bed. Apart from being exhausted with tiredness, I had had enough. I needed a duvet and Disney day, and Tuesday was it. I thought on that I might just actually remain there until all this was over. So, I spent a small fortune on a new TV and bracket and arrange for someone to come and put it on the wall for me. Impulsive I know but I can’t drink wine or eat food, new electrical seemed like the next best thing to help. My Mam went to the Chemo ward on Tuesday afternoon to collect more pills and potions. They give me some amazing tablets to take to stop my heartburn which happened in an instant! Also, a mouthwash that numbs the inside of my throat. I could drink water that night and have some food. What a God send. The threat of having to go back into hospital for fluids and bloods is enough for me to try anything to eat drink and poop.
The rest of the week I found myself getting so frustrated at everything. Frustrated that I felt so poorly and relying on other people running around. I’m sick of sitting on my bed or settee like a miserable lump. I want to go out and get fresh air and get tired out but feel too steroid drunk and sick to get up. When I’m not feeling sick, I feel frustrated that I still don’t want to sit and enjoy food nor am I interested in having food. Not even a nice cuppa. How can anyone expect to feel better if you can’t enjoy a brew?
On Wednesday I had a full-on panic attack when my Mam cooked fish for herself. I literally couldn’t breathe. The thought of food with a smell being in the house set me into a full on melt down. After working so hard not to feel sick for nearly a week I’m now worried smells and tastes if I get it wrong will set me right back. People come and try to help in any way they can while I bark my demands at them. An absolute monster is being created here. I’m such a bitch. At the time though my world was spiraling out of control. The mental side effects of cancer are starting to take hold. I know I said this the past two treatments but I’m for sure this time might actually send me mad.
Bastard.
