I woke up crying. Wet cheeks to go along with my face which was soaked in clammy sweat. I have a hot sweaty head.
I woke up at 00:35 am feeling hot and sick. I had to go to the toilet on and off throughout the night. My temperature wobbled, losing and gaining a degree in minutes. Dropping low, not rising high. I was scared. Is this what I have been warned about all along? Is this ‘The infection?’ Is this the part I have to go to hospital? My immune system is at it’s very lowest 7-14 days after chemo so this tallies. I can’t settle and I am constantly checking my temperature, pleading with the number of electronic devices at my disposal to settle themselves at my usual 36.2 degrees. Eventually it does, but my anxiety doesn’t. It gives my temperature a run for it’s money. I play out scenarios in my head as I lay there. Temp spike – shivers – chills – vomit – ambulance – hospital – death. I’m on loop with my story board and I am driving myself mad. It is horrendous. I’m panting for breath yet my body is still. I look down at my torso and watch the rise and fall of my chest – it quickens. I sweat. It slows. I sweat.
I don’t know if this is chemo driven or menopause driven. I feel absolutely awful. Please just stop. Can someone please press the reset button in me and let me start over again? cancer free. Chemo free. Anxiety free.
I am bored of this now
With little over 7 weeks to go until the end of chemo, I now more than ever, want this to stop. Right here. Right now. I’m done with chemo and I want to let me body stop fighting – stop decaying and start recovering. I’m tired to the core. Tired of the miserable stench of chemo. It is destroying me and my life. I hate it. I give as good as I get but I feel today, it has me by the throat and I cannot wriggle free.
I lie there – wet through – can’t rest and it feels like everyone else in the world is well and happy except me. Life is around me but not in me. I feel so run down – the clock watches me squirm and sweat – it’s minutes passing. As usual, it does nothing to rescue me. Just watches on. happy. Bastard thing.
This is a sick joke ad I am not laughing. I’m crying, begging for the distant feelings of nausea to leave me. They try. They do. I lay on my back taking in big gulps of air to try and neutralize the ghastly feelings travelling around my body. I get moments of release followed by sighs of release. But then it returns, slightly harder each time to bear.
i give in to sleep but even that doesn’t want me – spits me back out into a a world of awake-ness. Is that actually a word? Nothing is going to help me and I know it.
I admit defeat
This is typical. I was meant to have reflexology today but had to cancel. I can’t get up. I’m lying in bed scanning my eyes around my bedroom. It needs redecorating. I can see into every bit of the room and notice the dust and dirt. It’s making me mad and I do not want that emotion joining an already busy and unhealthy mind.
Like a moth to a flame it draws closer but it’s not about my bedroom. The madness is aimed at me and my cancer and my treatment. My entire life exists within this 3 way relationship. Except I did not give my consent for this did I? It is not a true throuple – I do not want to be here and I am not happy being here. But I have no power to remove myself so here I stay. Tied into a triad I despise. Sore. Sick. Dry mouth. Round chubby body. I have just felt a sore in my nose that feels painful to touch.
My low immune system is wide open to attack and I can’t do one damn thing to defend myself.
I start the day feeling helpless, upset I can’t go to have reflexology for me and my self-care, and very worried I won’t be able to snap myself back to life in time for my new teaching group at 1pm. It’s the diploma students first class today. Today I cannot feel like shit. I need to turn up, be on my game, alert, smart, tuned in and ready.
After ringing the chemo unit for advice I discover I’ve got oral thrush which has contributed to my sickness and general feelings of being ‘unwell’ and sore in my mouth and respiratory area. I have had a sore mouth for well over a week and just thought it was chemo related. Well it is, but today I find out I can treat it. I’m delighted and frustrated in equal doses. There’s a tip for you – always check out your symptoms and never assume. Ask. Don’t put up with any pain, sore, sickness or fatigue. get support. get advice and guidance. Ask others who have been there – they’re a great reference source.
By 1pm I have make up on, wig in place – ready for show time!
I look pale on the screen but I pull it off. The tutor in me overrides the chemo in me. I feel about 60% of myself and pray my new cohort of students don’t spot the 40% absence. It’s a 7 hour teach – 1-8pm – it goes quickly and I have my co-tutor by my side throughout – stepping in and we compliment each other perfectly. At least something feels normal here. I sign off feeling I did not make too many errors. I actually feel refreshed as I have had to think about my tasks today, my lesson plans, which has left little time for me to dwell on the echoes of oral thrush and it’s merry band of symptoms.
We ‘check in’ and ‘check out’ of every class, so I do tell those who don’t already know that I am near the end of chemo. I don’t state any specifics – but I want it out there. I am congruent and honest but I do not want this to play a big part on my laptop screen with these new students. I want it to be minimized as much as possible. It can have a voice – but a whisper.
I ended my last course drenched in my diagnosis. I do not want to start the new course soaked in chemo. I want to be seen on the screen as competent, professional and real. Not frail, sick and swollen.
The group are already strong so I bask in their strength and it takes the edge of the whole thing for me. So thank you.
It is now 21:50 pm – I am knackered! I’ve had food, a glass of wine and my head is exposed to the warm air of mid-September. My tubby tummy is on show and I wish it would just go back to where it came from and stop showing off!