As I end the most brutal 6 months of my life, I am reflecting every minute I am awake. My head is so busy, jammed full of what has happened, what is still happening, and how I have felt throughout. I am thinking a lot about my family too. My husband and children. I am living the experience differently to them. I have the cancer, feel the pain and fear of living with this wretched disease. But they have also go stories to tell. I want them to have their voices heard. I may have been the centre of attention as the ‘ill Mum’, but I am very mindful of their feelings and how they have encountered this episode of our lives’.
It is so so hard. Nothing is easy about any of this, and I can see the effects of this on each of their faces. My husband especially looks different right now. Older, sadder, worn out – tense. Still very handsome – but he too has not escaped the disease. I wonder if the glow will return and the faces of the five of us will shine and live again. My hair is growing back but I still look frail and cancer ridden. I wish so bad right now I could look 12 months into the future and see what we look like, and what are lives are full of. Life and hope? God that would be amazing.
So, as I tick of the days to my final treatment, I have been thinking about the secret side effects of chemo and cancer. BEWARE no one will tell you these.
It’s cycle#7, nearly #8 – and about a week ago I picked up. Mentally and emotionally, I started to come out of the chemo coma. It was glorious. Then something happened. I started to grow.
I felt bloated. I have not had a period since June so I have pout the podgy pants down to PMS with a side helping of the menopause.
Got on the scales. 10 stone 11pounds!?!? My f***ing God. I’m huge. I’m like a cow. I have two stomachs. I’m not eating nowhere near enough to justify this weight right now. When I started chemo I was 10 stone 3 pounds. Granted, I hadn’t eaten much at all leading on from diagnosis and treatment. So, this was not my true weight. 10 stone 5-6 pounds is there or there about’s. So now I have put on half a stone, if not more. But I don’t feel it as fat. I feel it as water – chemo water – and I had no clue it existed. So I Googled it. It does.
My chemo likes to leave it’s mark. It’s it’s signature across your skin, stomach and hips. And my face – which is puffy and tight. I feel this has crept up on me and now as each day passes, I am putting on approx 1.5 pounds a day. I scream ‘chemo chub’ and no amount of contour is going to help me now.
I can take no more.
By Monday, I have emailed the Oncologist, called the Doctors, rang the triage line at the chemo unit, and text my homeopath. All get back to me with remedies and answers. And empathy. I am not going mad – this happens and I am falling culprit to water retention. The chemo triggers water retention, which is a build up of fluids in the tissues. This build up in your body could also mean there are problems with your liver and kidneys. I have had blood tests today which will help those looking after me look for the reasons this is happening. I get the result tomorrow.
The combination of chemo I have been given, does result in weight gain. I have read some alarming reports suggesting this weight doesn’t ever come off. I am gutted. How can that be? I have been told many times, once the chemo lifts, and the treatments starts, then you can get back to the body you once had, before it was ruined. But how can it ever go back? It will never be the same again for anyone who has had to have chemo. I may get my immune system back, but the long term effects of the chemo can be hard. These include, faster DNA ageing, so I will only look older than I should. And this little lot:
- Fatigue.
- Difficulty with focused thinking (sometimes called chemo brain).
- Early menopause.
- Heart problems.
- Reduced lung capacity.
- Kidney and urinary problems.
- Nerve problems such as numbness and tingling.
- Bone and joint problems.
Sometimes known as ‘late effects’, they can present towards the end of the treatment. I have had about half of these, and consider myself lucky. My friend still can’t feel one of her feet after the treatment.
As the day burns out and my teaching lesson nears it’s end, I have everything I need to take tonight to help with the water retention and the heavy thoughts that I will always carry the burdens of this cancer treatment.