Last time:
The following was my reaction to my last chemo treatment. I wasn't going to share because it made me sad reading it, but the point of this blog is to vent and to heal so I feel like I have to:
Sometimes I swear I can actually feel it killing the good stuff. That's when I'm my most foggy. Depressing.
And there is no worse feeling than trying to feed Sam a bottle and not being able to feel my hands.
And there is no worse fear than carrying her down the stairs.
Plain and simple.The neuropathy is a mind fuck. It makes you crazy. A couple times through tears I said I wanted to chop my legs off. A couple other times I was more reasonable and said I just wanted to tie them together. Not sure what the hell that would do, but that's what my desperate brain keeps picturing would help.
Today Billy had to put my clothes away for me while I sat and tried to direct him. He was patient and I was miserable. I felt a bit retarded (using that word in its true form. Not in a disrespectful way!). In a physical way, I am. Legs buckling while I brush my teeth. Not to mention the brain fog that is still lingering.
Later on I was trying to make a shopping list. Billy told me two items to add. He started saying a third and I told him my brain wouldn't remember that many at once. He held off, but by then I had already forgotten one of the first two items.
I decided to weed out some old clothing. Bad move on my part. Going through my clothes was pure torture. Nothing fits me and even if it does, I can't go out in the sun and rock cut offs and a tank without feeling sick or having skin discoloring. Nowadays my wardrobe is mostly leggings and lounge pants (Meow!). So watching the bikini go into the Goodwill pile set me off. I had just started to get to a point in my life where I was comfortable in my skin, stretch marks and all, and would rock a bikini. Well, mostly in my backyard. Call it a newfound confidence based on the fact that motherhood created my flab and my tiger stripes. But more importantly, I didn't want Emily to have a mom that hid behind physical insecurities. I wanted her to look back and truly know what her mother looked like. I wanted to lead by example. Our daughters need this more than ever. But then I realized there is still the giant slice of a scar that has left my stomach all mangled and majorly uneven. And to that I say, fuck you. Because the bikini not only brought on these feelings, it also brought on the question. And it's not the question if I will ever wear a bikini again. It's the question if I will be around to even contemplate it.
One last thought, Facebook is deadly when you are homebound. I can barely use my phone because of my hands but scrolling through Facebook is easy. Well easy to use, but not easy to tolerate. Seeing all the wonderful things families are doing while I'm stuck on my ass sucks. And it kills me thinking how strong the hold chemo has on not just me, but Billy and the kids. I should be showing Sam off right now but I barely leave the house. I just need a break, I guess. It's too hard this week.
The following is a recap of my in-between week:
Things were better but chemo side effects lasted over a week and that was really difficult to bare. On the plus side I was able to feel somewhat human by Tuesday. My mental fog was gone and I actually got to be like one of those Facebook families I typically envy. I saw friends and family, had a much needed date with my husband, and even caught a baseball game.
I'm trying my hardest to stay positive about my upcoming treatment but knowing I have 7 more treatments to go is crushing. A friend with cancer had suggested a while back that I make a paper chain and every time I finish a treatment, I get to rip one loop off. I made my loops two days ago and hung them over Sam's changing table. It's funny how seven small pieces of paper can look gargantuan. It's funny how much power seven small pieces of paper can have.
Chemo Eve:
Tomorrow is number 6.
Tonight Billy told me I can't get too discouraged this week. It's not just the chemo. It's the fact that Billy goes back to work tomorrow. He's been home with me through this whole journey. He's been my nurse, my cook, my therapist, and whatever else I have needed him to be. He's also had to deal with his own massive amount of stress both physically and mentally. I'm scared. Now mind you, I have an arsenal of friends and family who will be here every day and for that I know I am friggin blessed beyond measure. But it doesn't change the fact that my best friend won't be there as much and it truly hurts my heart. I happen to be extremely fond of the man I married. And just when I thought I couldn't love him anymore, I go and get cancer, and he shows me that he is even more amazing than I could ever imagine.
Burn baby burn:
Well I'm pretty sure there is no flow to this post and it irks me a little, but I'll get over it. It actually is pretty similar to my thoughts. Lacking rhythm. Well as much as I dread tomorrow, I do look forward to cutting off a loop. I'd like to say that I will follow the cutting with a ceremonious prayer or something like that, but I won't.
I intend to burn the shit out of it.
Amen to that!