Despite it’s best efforts to destroy me, I have had a reasonable few days. Weirdly yesterday was better than today. Getting back to counselling is definitely a tonic for me. I look forward to working with my clients today. I sometimes can’t reach for my responses as quickly but being there in tune with my client’s presenting issues and subsequent feelings is still all there. The proof I need that I am still me underneath the cancer clothes. Under the wig, the numb face and eyelids you’ll still find me. Giving 100% to everyone I have the privilege of walking beside.
So I find out the steroids I am taking do make my appetite increase and will interrupt sleep. Now that makes sense. I’m hungry every few hours. It seems far more of an issue than the first cycle. I can’t remember eating this much. I take food to bed and I put overnight oats in the slow cooker so I can tuck in as soon as it gets light.
I’m also struggling to remember things. I’m talking to my family and making plans then cannot remember the conversations. We sat down to watch Coronation Street a few nights ago and I started the Sky Planner. They all said we’d watched the programme I started to play. I was adamant I had not seen it – nothing was being aroused in my memory box thank you. So they sat through another three episodes they had already seen because I was sure I hadn’t watched them. When each of them told me what was going to happen next, I unfortunately had to admit I was wrong – poor buggers. I love Corrie but they aren’t too keen!
My jaw bone is numb and my eyelids aren’t there. Well they are – I just can’t feel them attached to my face. I blink but have no sensation from the movement. Freaky. My teeth and my gums are sore. The roof of my mouth has gone AWOL. My bottom lip is blistered. I keep gurning to tempt the feeling back in. This chemotherapy really does take the piss.