The week of waiting continues. Or rather, begins. Is it actually only Monday? I went to old lady yoga this morning. I can't sit bent knee anymore. Actually, I couldn't sit bent knee before the cancer, due to torn meniscus from over exercising and being stubborn but the steroids I'd been given for chemo actually took away the knee inflammation. For the past month I've been walking without the nagging pain and in yoga last week I was able to sit on my bent knee.
It's been over two weeks since I've had the steroids and all the effects have worn off now. It's been the same amount of time since I've had chemo, so I'd expect some of those awful side effects to be disappearing too but I still feel so tired all of a sudden. I got winded walking upstairs to put towels away yesterday. I guess the chemo stays in the body for a lot longer than the steroids. I try to deny it and push through, but I rarely win.
Over the weekend we went to Home Depot because I wanted to buy a little home greenhouse to grow my wheatgrass in. I'm having some trouble getting it to sprout at home despite doing everything the various websites said to do. Maybe I'm just impatient, but I feel like it should be way longer by now. Anyway, the greenhouse was too big so "we" decided that it was a no-go. I saw some shelves on the way out that would be perfect for our storage room in the basement that currently has boxes and bins all over the place. Four sets of those shelves that are on 60% off would do the trick. Jason said no immediately.
I understand, his days are already filled with overflow from what I used to do. Cooking, laundry, dishes and lunches. He didn't want an extra job. So "we" decided no.
Today after old lady yoga I decided that I was going to Home Depot and I'd get the shelves and bring them into the basement while he was at work and at least start to put them together, maybe I wouldn't get everything done, but I'd start. We don't really go in that room so if I didn't get it all done no one would notice.
Obviously, because I am the person I am, I completed the job. Organized the whole room and I felt MUCH better. In my head anyway. I felt like shit, in my body. I was tired, had a headache and didn't feel like eating dinner.
Sitting here I feel nauseous and like I worked a 15 hour day on my feet. Jason got mad at me when he got home because he said I was going to wear myself down, to which I replied that I felt fine.
Now I have to spend the rest of the night pretending I feel good, to preserve my argument. He just walked past me and said "You're looking awfully tired my baby" and then winked. So he knows. But he also knows that sometimes I just need to feel like I'm in control of something. Even if it is just a few shelves and bins. The room looks way better now and when I go down there to get something I don't feel the stress I did before the organization. It was a win. Even if it'll take me tomorrow to recover.
After I finished the job (which really did only take me 3 hours), I made myself some lunch. Lunch these days consists of an avocado on my seed crackers and five olives. I've suspected for the past few days that I'm having a reaction to avocados. My cheeks get hot and red and my nose stuffs up and I get a terrible headache. I dare say my body has turned on my favourite food. I am going to need to take a break from avocados now. Another thing that's gone.
Speaking of gone, my hair is going away in patches. If I reach up to my head and even gently pull on my short little hairs they come out effortlessly in clumps. Like pulling a petal off a daisy. I imagine some windy day and all my fuzzy little hairs just blowing away like a dandelion, poof. Gone. Boiled egg head. Mrs. Potato. It's happening.
I can't wear the hats inside, they make my head hot. I can't get used to the idea of the totally bald head though either. I think I just need to find a better hat, one that doesn't scream "cancer" when I put it on, maybe an organic cotton one. I don't know. The dark circles under my eyes don't help the look and my sunken cheeks add to the skeletor look that I see when I look in the mirror. Jason says everyone looks their worst in February and I still look beautiful, maybe just a little pale and tired, God bless him. He tries.
When I was having my bath while the kids and Jason were eating (I don't often eat at the table - I don't eat the same food most days and it exhausts me to sit there and me eating takes forever), anyway, when I was having my bath I made the mistake of going on the cancer facebook groups I'm a member in. I spiral when I read all the comments.
This time it was a discussion about a PICC line. A PICC line is long catheter that is put into a peripheral vein in the arm and goes into a larger vein in the body. It's used to deliver the chemotherapy. It stays in for the course of chemotherapy, so the person doesn't have to get a new IV every time they have chemo.
The benefit of the PICC line, besides not having to be jabbed every two weeks, is that the chemo therapy is delivered through the catheter to the larger vein which is stronger and more capable of handling the toxin. The disadvantage of the PICC is that the risk of blood clots increases as does risk of infection and you have to be careful moving around a little more. My Dr. said he would rather reduce the risk of blot clots and I wouldn't have the PICC.
The major downside I discovered from reading people's experiences (while my bath water went cold), is that the Adriamycin (the red devil) has been known to actually collapse veins, when this happens the chemo can leak into tissues and destroy the tissue. The veins could be destroyed from the chemo for life because it causes hardening of the walls of the veins - called "cording". When I get the chemo I have to be very aware of any burning sensation when they're pushing it in. If I feel something they flush it with saline, and pause. They're dead serious when they do it too. Making very sure the blood flow is good, the needle is in a good vein. All that. Chemo days are not only physically draining, they're very mentally stressful.
I then stupidly decided to google Adriamycin (or Doxorubicin) and read a little more about the Red Devil. What a fucking mistake. I already knew the side effects and went through the whole trauma of hearing that I could develop leukemia from this, or congestive heart failure or have a reaction that could kill me. Why did I read them all again? I don't know. All I know is every time I go for chemo, I'm increasing my chances of something else awful happening while I'm trying to decrease the chances of the awful thing that's already happening continuing. It's a real catch 22.
Again, the only solution is to just accept that this is what I've decided to do and being afraid isn't going to do anything but stress my body. I need to remain positive that I'm going to be OK and while it may be a long road to recovery, I will recover. For now my job is to steer clear of germs so I can at least continue with the chemo. This week of waiting is not helping things.
The kids school had a sign on the door that there's an outbreak of Fifths Disease and Ari told me a boy barfed just before home time. I try not to get anxious about them bringing something home, but I made them both have baths immediately upon entry and disinfect their lunch boxes like they're coming straight from Wuhan.
And that's another thing, all this talk to the Coronavirus, it doesn't do much to assuage my germ paranoia. I found a website that is real time and tracks total cases by country, deaths, recoveries, severe and critical patients and has graphs and more case statistics. There are currently 43,101 people with this virus. 1,018 people are dead. There were over 2,400 new cases reported today in China. Now THAT is a nightmare. It doesn't do anything for me but make me want to hide in my house, and also feel very sorry for all people and especially the Canadians in quarantine, but very happy they are there and not running around the mall.
Conclusion for the day. Put the phone down. Stop googling and just think positively. Fresh air and my daily green juice. Take my supplements and mistletoe. Fast appropriately and lots of water. Try to sleep well and be grateful for my safe little house on my quiet street on the mountain.
It can be so easy to go down the rabbit hole, sitting home during the daytime watching your hair fall out. It's a major obstacle for cancer patients. All that time to fill.
I was recently gifted a really nice neck warmer and it's inspired me to look into knitting lessons. Maybe then I can create something while I sit here besides an ulcer.
Tomorrow I plan to do another yoga class and maybe organize a drawer. Nothing crazy. No googling though, definitely not.
That's tomorrow though...tonight I tucked my babies in, I told them I loved them and every time now I leave their rooms at bedtime I want to cry because I can't imagine a day without them, or especially a day when they don't have me to make them feel safe and secure. I can't dwell on it because it swallows me up inside and I spiral into the land of what ifs.
I can't "what if". I just have to "what next".
I had today, and I'm grateful for that and if I'm blessed to have tomorrow I'll continue to be grateful. I think this gratitude and my focus on recovery - and the day I tell my kids that the cancer is gone.
Those are the thoughts that combat all the darkness on Mondays like these.
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