Today is 6 months since I went into hospital for my neck dissection operation. Part of me feels pleased that I have recovered so well from the operation itself. The rest of me stays frustrated that my recovery from the remainder of my treatment is taking so long.
I am not coping well with my menopause. I’ve started getting the dreaded night sweats now. Anyone got any good tips?
I get days when I am fed up of being constantly reminded of my cancer. I have decided that it didn’t help that our house still resembled a sickroom in places. So I have taken down all my get well cards. I am going to keep them all as there are some lovely messages in there, but I have decided that I don’t need to see them on the walls every day. I am not ill, I am recovering.
I have also been round the house and tidied away the enormous amount of stuff that I have accumulated during this journey. Special toiletries and my medication are now all away in cupboards, along with the bottles for my feeding tube. The Macmillan booklets are tucked away on a shelf and I have put the vast amount of paperwork I’ve collected into a drawer. I have also put away the emergency hospital bag that I was told to keep handy during my chemo. I can still get to these items quickly but I don’t want to be looking at them all the time. The house is now finally looking much like it was before I was diagnosed and I feel happier for it.
Unfortunately every time I see my hair in the mirror I have a very obvious reminder. When I started dyeing my hair I had no idea that hair dye is banned for 6 months after chemotherapy. But then who expects to ever get cancer? I now have 5” of grey roots. It is not an attractive look. My hairdresser kindly rang the other day to see how I am. The only solution she could think of was to wear a hat until February.
I’ve also caught up on all those boring household chores that have been neglected. Things like cleaning out the fridge and scrubbing out the detergent drawer in the washing machine. I’ve also been inspecting my garden. My husband has made a very good job of looking after it. The roses seem to have recovered from being pruned with the hedge clipper. My favourite buddleia needed cutting down now, fortunately I managed to do some of it myself and then I carefully supervised my husband removing the rest.
I’ve been spending the last few days catching up with friends and family on the phone. I was too tired to talk to anyone much during my treatment. Then I lost my voice and then I had the hearing problems, so I’ve really missed being able to chat, it’s not the same as an email. What I am struggling with now is that everyone wants to know every little detail of how my treatment was, and I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m happy to share things on this site but I don’t see the point of telling anyone else. I am constantly being told every cancer patient is different and I wouldn’t want to say anything that may end up being unhelpful. When I was first diagnosed I made the mistake of hesitating to join this site for several months. Instead I asked questions of the cancer survivors I knew, and I didn’t build up an accurate picture of what to expect. I ended up being terrified of chemo because I only asked one person and she had a bad experience. So I’m staying quiet and everyone seems to find this very odd.
Talking of things odd, my husband has suddenly decided to grow a beard! I asked him why and he says it is a protest against my cancer. Apparently he intends to grow this beard until I get the all clear. Then I may decide if it stays or goes. It seems to be some sort of incentive for me to get better. Unfortunately I do not like the beard at all. Bits of it feel like sandpaper, the rest of it feels like a hedgehog. Sometimes I just don’t understand men.
