Tomorrow morning I’ll have my seventh chemotherapy treatment. I really hoped I’d never write that sentence. I really hoped I’d be done after six treatments and on my merry way to remission. But that damn O.J. is stubborn, and I’ll have #8 in three weeks before we scan again to figure out the next step.
I’ve been feeling down lately. There have been days since my diagnosis in November when facing this challenge have been more difficult than others, for sure. But in the past few weeks I feel beaten down more than I did before. I haven’t lost my fight—don’t worry, I’m still determined to kick cancer’s ass—but I’m worn out. I don’t find it so easy to see the bright side, to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m so, so tired.
Chemotherapy drugs are notorious for their side effects. So far, the worst worry I’ve had has been my weakened immune system, and although I’ve caught just about every cold that’s made the rounds, I’ve managed to steer clear of life-threatening infections. But long-term use of certain chemo drugs weakens the heart, and this concerns me. I’ve never had trouble with my heart, and even after I’m told I’m cancer-free, my heart is going to be an important part of every exam for the rest of my life.
I’m also tired of all the regular side effects. I know I should be used to these by now, but it’s pretty much the opposite of that. I want to be done with these potent drugs so I can start getting back to normal—whatever that’s going to be now. My teeth hurt while I’m on prednisone right after chemo. My skin breaks out. I’m absolutely exhausted, all the time, but I still have trouble sleeping. My brain feels foggy and I have trouble concentrating. My appetite is totally unpredictable. There are tender spots all over my head. I ache all over, and physical therapy doesn’t seem to be making much difference. I miss my hair.
Sherilee is joining me for chemo tomorrow, and I’m hopeful that our hours of laughing, pole-dancing, and trashy magazine-reading will rejuvenate me. I want so much to get back to being that girl who loves her life, who feels happy even when things are far from perfect. I want to be Jen again.
Dear Jen...I hear you loud and clear. Even though I'm going through my chemo and have a little insite into how you feel, I don't KNOW how you're feeling. I do understand though, I think people feel we've been doing this now for a little bit and it should be becoming more routine or we should be used to it somehow.
ReplyDeleteIT SUCKS to go through this and you are right, it's harder NOT easier!
I to, feel depressed somehow. Missing my hair...I've done the bald now I want it back. I've gone time after time dumping that stupid poison into my body all the while thinking, "YIKES, my poor heart." And talk about mushchemobrain! I was terrible at concentration and english structure before....NOW I SUCK (i.e. the dots between sentences and poor spelling which drives you crazy I know :).............)
Anyway, Jen, I don't mean to say I know how you feel but I do understand your frustrations. It's easier to maintain + early on in our treatment but now.......blah!
Please hang in there sister. I'm praying for you (even if you and your sis don't believe in that), I'm sending positive thoughts (if you and your sis do), I'm dancin' a friggin' pole and rockin' out today, in honor of a courageous, cancer fightin' Jen!!!
You will fight a GREAT fight (even when you don't feel like it) and we will beat stupid ugly Lymphoma!!!
Here's to a successful #7!!!
Your chemosistah and friend, Brenda Manley
::hugs::
ReplyDeleteI am sorry to hear you have to continue chemo treatments - and I wish I had some perfect thing to say, but just know you are in my thoughts and I think you are doing such an amazing job of dealing with all of this - you are so brave and so rockin' - here's hoping OJ figures out he's outworn his welcome a long, long time ago and hits the road already.
Jen,I want to thank you for letting us be a part of your life, especially at this most difficult time in your life. While we see you laugh and joke about things, I know that you have to put the pain of all of it in a very deep place in your soul, to do that. You are very brave, even though you think that you had no other choice but to be brave, you had the option to retreat. You didn't. For that, I am proud. Now let's kick cancer's ass!
ReplyDeleteI can relate to most of what you're going through and you're lucky to have such great friends and a first dude :-) I know it's tough to not be able to do the things you'd like, the tiredness and forgetfulness and sore mouth and appetite YES appetite NO stuff...
ReplyDeleteI read about you on Sweet Tea and Sunshine and wanted to let you know I'm thinking positive thoughts for you! If you'd like to read about my cancer journey, here's a link: http://thewomenscolony.com/display/Search?searchQuery=not+fond+of+cancer&moduleId=3406164&moduleFilter=&categoryFilter=&startAt=0 (I've only written 7 posts about it, and not on my blog cause it's so personal). No worries though...just thought I'd share :-)