I’d like a day where I don’t think about chemo and it’s work. What would I think about? It feels like it has always been in my life when actually it hasn’t. I am only 13 weeks into this chapter of my life but it seems like 13 years. I am left thinking about those who have this treatment for an indefinite period of time. Those who have chemo every week. You find a new respect for people when you have cancer and you have chemo. I am in total awe of those who have this treatment regularly and get on with their lives. You are forced to locate an inner strength. Maybe you had no idea it was there – but chemo introduces it to you. It helped me drawing on the inner resources I had used for previous trauma and adversity in my life. I have no doubt at all everyone experiencing this will grow and develop a new part of themselves who will exist for ever inside of them. So, it’s not just about getting through the treatment, I also think about how I will be as a person, a Mum, a counsellor, when the treatment stops and I return to my previous life. Except – that will never be the same now will it?
I will never ever be that person again – and I will have to find new ways of managing and coping with the new version of me cancer left behind.
Some minutes are heavy today – some not so bad. Today is OK – a bit in-between and mmmuuhhh. I could let myself be dragged into a cesspit of worry if I’m not careful. Worked today, which always helps and heals and keeps me at ‘base Heidi’, which is light relief when there’s a bomb going off outside of my world. My skin feels very tough – like leather. I was pinching it last night, convinced it looked as tough as it feels. I have a sore throat too which refuses to leave – it’s hinting it’s there so the pain relief keeps going in to give it a nudge. I don’t want to feel any worse than I have to.
My kids are all dispersed in different places so I am actually on my own right now. Not been on my own for such a long time. There is always someone here – someone at home.
I did too much yesterday and paid the price.
So tired and sore – couldn’t settle and relax like I’d have liked to. Don’t want to put myself there again today so I’m resisting the urge to back to writing lesson plans for my new counselling training course starting next month.
I told my husband today I wanted to g back to work, to get back into a routine and to see people again. Make a difference – do stuff. He looked at me like I was growing another head out of my nostrils. It was seeing his look, hearing him question why I can’t just enjoy the down time that took me aback. I only have a few weeks left of the summer break until I get back to work. I am so busy counting down the days until the end of treatment everything has got mixed up in that. Nothing is separate any more – my life revolves around getting poison pumped through me, coping with that and getting back to ‘normal’. Then repeat. Every three weeks- on and on it goes. Here is me saying I want a routine when I actually bloody have one. Just not the one I am used to or want.
This realization frightened me actually. Work life will resume soon – yet here I am wishing it was here already. I’m six days on from chemo and all I can do is think about being busy. What is stopping me taking this time to recover? Embrace the quieter times during the day rather than cramming it full of busy stuff to do?
I don’t think I really know how to relax and stop for a while. I don’t feel guilty or anything I’m just not sure what to do with myself when I do just stop and sit. I’m questioning this now. What am I avoiding? What is motivating me to keep doing things and being ‘good busy’? Good busy is a lovely state of being for me. I feel optimistic and energized – ready to tackle the tasks I need to achieve to move on to the next one! I do like being still yet I do not make the time for that in my world.
My body is tired. My mind is tired and right now still and quiet with a slow pace would really benefit me. I’m a knob. I need to listen to myself more and be OK with being at a reduced speed. What am I trying to achieve? All the medals have gone.
I could just curl up now and lie on the sofa and watch TV. Or I could read, meditate, eat, sleep…… Maybe I am subconsciously trying to put life into every moment I don’t feel ill or sore or sick. Maybe I am scared that if I stop I will risk losing me to cancer and it’s consequences? I can’t bear thinking about how I might feel once the treatment is over and I’m no longer on a three weekly cycle of worry and second guessing. Christ. How will that feel? I’ll be scared it will come back. That’s going to be one hell of a worry to navigate through. Do you ever make peace with that I wonder? Will that not matter to me? Will it come in shades of existence – some lighter and some darker? It won’t ever go will it? I’ll always be on my guard – waiting for the moment it takes me back and tries to kill me again.
I feel very flat now – sad – lonely – and very anxious that my life will never ever be the same again.
Whether I slow down or speed up….this fear will always live there.