#44 Good People. Tough Times.

I didn't blog much last week. Things aren't exactly moving at lightning speed over here. After I had chemo last Friday I felt good Saturday and Sunday morning. As expected later on Sunday the bone pain hit. I went from being able to bend down and move around to literally being stuck in bed in pain.

Without percoset the pain would be an 8/10, this time I felt some bones I didn't even realize were capable of hurting. My eye sockets, the bones in my ears and all the bones in my back. I had to take the immune booster Sunday as well which exacerbated the bone pain and by the evening on Sunday I couldn't get out of bed without help from Jason.

This pain lasted until Wednesday. Each day I'd take painkillers whenever I could and gravol because they make me nauseous. The "percs" take the pain from an 8 or 9 to a 2 or 3. I can see why people get addicted to them, you feel nothing. Also, they relax you. I'd watch the news and get all paranoid that the Coronavirus is going to kill us all and then I'd take a pill and realize it's not going to kill all of us.

When the pain subsided Wednesday I made Jason hide the container from me because I found myself wanting to take one even though I didn't really need them. I sympathize with people who become addicted to opiods, it can happen to good people and so quickly. It's so tempting to take a drug to just make all the world go away, especially now....but obviously, I'm not going down that road. Just saying....I can see how it happens and how it gets away on people and before they know it they can't live without them.

Anyway, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were pretty much the same. Wake up, watch Justin Trudeau on TV, think about getting out of bed, get out of bed, get dressed and go for a walk with Jason. It's still hard for me to do long distances even though I don't have a whole lot of pain, I'm tired. We walk for about 30-45 minutes, avoiding any and all people and chat about all different things. It's nice to have time with him. We really are lucky that we like each other so much, I can't imagine being trapped with someone I didn't love talking to or found so easy to be around.

I'm trying to find the positives in this isolation situation and one thing Jason pointed out is that without the stay home order we wouldn't have had all this time to spend together. Same thing with the kids. This week they're up in the Blue Mountains with Madeleine's Dad and his girlfriend at a cottage, isolated near a nice lake and out in the forest which I'm happy about. With the kids going back and forth to Dads I get very paranoid about germs and them bringing them home to me. We have to be so very careful whenever anyone goes anyhwere.

Having cancer during this time, and more specifically being on chemotherapy is very stressful. I can't leave my house and go anywhere, I literally go only for walks. When Jason goes to the grocery store, he wears a mask and when he gets home he takes all his clothes off and showers right away, we disinfect all the items coming in and wash all the food. It's extreme but the reality is, if I catch this thing I could die.

I have thought about this, and I've had a few panic attacks over it. The speed at which people get sick and die is scary. I've thought that I should write my letters to my kids. I was planning on doing it before my surgery in case something went wrong. You know, the death letters....I've been dreading it because I don't want to actually think about leaving them but I think I need to write them. Just so I feel better, in case something happens.

I want to tell them how much I love them, that they've changed my life and I wasn't even a real person until I became a mom. Then I try to think about all the advice I'd give them, all the years and years I'd miss and I just shut down and can't even bring myself to think about it. How do I put all that in a letter...a lifetime worth of motherhood? And so I put it off for another day. I think tomorrow I will start. I hope they don't ever have to read them, but it's like a will. No one wants to do it, but it's better done than not.

I have this blog, so they can read that too but I want to give them each advice they can take with them as they grow, I want to tell them how wonderful they are and that even if I'm not physically there I'll be there in all the little things. I'll be there in spirit all the time...and at their weddings, or when they are sad and I'm not there to talk to, I'll be there when they have babies. It's the worst part about all of this...just thinking that I would miss all that...and that they would have to go through life without me. Without me to call or cry to or to kiss their boo boos better. They're both still so little. It's the kind of thing any mother can imagine is soul crushing.

I get especially worried because they have different Dads and it's possible that if I die, they would not only lose me but each other. I want them to stay together and stay close to Jason. There are so many things that just break my heart when I think about it. This is why I haven't written the letters but every night I think about it and I'm starting to wake up in the middle of the night and pretty much cry myself back to sleep. Scared about the future, scared people won't stay home and I'll catch this virus. Scared the cancer will kill me. Scared of going outside. Scared of pretty much everything. Who can live like that? It's tough.

So I take a few gaba, maybe a lorazepam and try to reassure myself that I've got tomorrow and I'm OK right now. I have to take it day by day. I regularly have to talk myself off the ledge, especially after I watch the news. It's hard to deal with chemotherapy and the physical and mental aspect of that, add in the stress of fearing that even if I don't get sick from the coronavirus so many people will that they'll postpone my surgery and my aggressive cancer will spread and reduce my life expectancy. I worry about so many things. If I let it, it could bring me to my knees and keep me there but I won't let it. I carry on. For them. I do it all for my babies. I want to be around for them. They deserve a mom, not a life having to miss her everyday. So I continue.

This Wednesday I go to the hospital alone, they'll take my blood and because of restrictions I'll then come home and have a phone appointment with my oncologist. If my white blood cells are high enough, I'll go Thursday for another round of Taxol. Hopefully I don't have the reaction I did last time and then I'll be done 3 with one more to go. And I'll go through the cycle of the bone pain all over again. My kids have mostly been at school or with their dads when I've been most sick with chemo but this time they'll be here full time and it's going to be tough for them to see Mommy so sick. I hope it doesn't scare them. Each round of chemo gets tougher and harder to be "normal".

So you can see, it's tough. These times are tough for all of us in different ways. I try to remind myself everyday that I'm doing all I can. I'm staying home. Jason only goes out for essentials and rarely. We wash our hands regularly and disinfect common surfaces. We snuggle and try to focus on the moment. We tell each other that these tough times will pass and we'll get through them.

I'll start to write those letters tomorrow, and I'll put them away and hope they never have to read them. The future is unknown, and that's tough. For today, I have someone to love and a warm bed and I feel OK and made it through another round of chemo. I am thankful my kids are safe and happy and healthy.

It's good to be prepared for worst case scenario, but hope for the best. At the end of the day, that's all I have. Hope and prayers. Lots of people have sent me cards with kind words and messages that they have been praying for me and thinking of me. It is in the dark moments in the night when I remember those words and they give me hope. I thank you all who've done so, I don't like to think about it, but it makes me feel better that if anything did happen to me that my little girls would get those messages too from all of you and not feel so alone and scared without me...and that also gives me comfort.

Even though we're physically alone we're there for each other with messages and kindness and reassurance in the toughest of times. It's amazing how wonderful people can be, even when they are scared for themselves and their families.

We're all good people, just doing our best. I truly believe that especially these days.