Thursday, November 11, 2021

9th November 2021 - I smell chemo

Can't believe it's been over a month since I wrote a blog entry.   A summary of that month could be: 

I felt my feelings, I felt raw, sick, tearful, fearful, ungrateful, sad.

I had round 2 of chemo and it was just as bad as the first round if not worse.   My dose had been reduced due to my reaction the first time around.   I had new anti sickness drugs.   But I had the same physical reaction where I felt sick, gagging and not able to eat and emotional reaction that said "I don't want anymore chemo".   "I want my mom".   I had the fear I was dying and all I wanted was to be with my family.   

Well, as you can see I didn't die.  But after 4 days with my friend Val, I asked my friends if anyone could drive me to Solihull to mom's house.    Fran and Chris to the rescue and despite only coming out of hospital the day before, Chris drive me to the place I was longing to be.   It didn't take long before the tears came, followed by sobs. I sat on the settee sobbing into mom's arms.    And she sobbed too.  

I stayed for 6 days.   There were lots more tears that I couldn't hold back.   My crying over the years had taken place in private, on the toilet.  But this emotion was not hidden.   I was able to ask openly for a shoulder to sob on.   

I left mom's travelling back in Beastie, not feeling 100% still but better than I arrived.   Janice stayed with me that night and the following day I went to hers to stay.  She had bought tickets for a wellbeing fair at Buxton Pavilion on Saturday and there was a spare one for Saturday.  

Saturday arrived, and myself Janice and Dawn set off for Buxton travelling along the road from Ashbourne which is a fabulous scenic route.  We parked up at the Pavilion and spent the day at the health and well being fair which consisted of stalls with crystals, stones, hippie clothing and also talks on different topics.   I wasn't fully present for the day, but I did enjoy it, especially the time walking around the Pavilion gardens which were just gorgeous, full of dogs and their hoomans, autumnal colours and just that feeling of being outside.  

I had managed to get an appointment with the Consultant to discuss the chemo going forward.   I'd sworn off having any more such was the trauma I felt.   I'd rung her secretary a couple of times, and an appointment arrived.   I spent about 40 minutes with the consultant discussing my options.  Since being diagnosed I felt I'd woken up to the situation, and wasn't just going along with what was suggested.   I didn't really understand why I was not having radiotherapy first if it targeted specific area.  I'd been told it was bolt and braces i.e. it was a mop up exercise for any floating cancerous pieces attempting to grow and invade other parts of my body, but I don't think I really grasped that part of why I was having chemo.  The consultant really listened to me, she answered my questions,  she understood I'd had 2 bad experiences now and really wasn't tolerating the chemo.   I asked if I could go straight to radiotherapy and she said yes and I asked why I hadn't had that first and it was then she explained about the area in the pectoralis axillary nodes and they were trying to reduce the risk of metastases.    So I was given 3 choices and I opted for a new chemo drug, Abraxane.   New to me, not new new.   I didn't want it that's the truth.  I couldn't even think about going to the clinic again to have the next treatment.   I felt physically sick at the thought of it.   I smelt chemo everywhere I went.   I don't think there is a smell to it, but something I smelt that day when I had to go back to clinic because I was so poorly, I'd now associated with chemo.  Also, smells such as raspberries in a fridge every time I opened the fridge door I now associate with feeling ill.   The petrol fumes when I'm topping up the car makes me gag.  The smell of my own toilet visits makes me gag.   Nail varnish makes me gag and the list goes on.   Even writing this blog has been delayed it makes me have to think about what's happened in the last month and quite frankly, i'm struggling to deal with it all.   

I don't do ill.  I do a tummy bug and then it gets better, a migraine because I know a tablet fixes it.  Having cancer and having to deal with the feelings of it day by day, minute by minute, hour by hour, the uncertainty of it all, not knowing if I'm going to feel nauseas today, or if my food is going to reappear from my mouth (which to be fair hasn't been that often) or if it's going to stay in my tummy and reappear as a solid stool or squirt out of my arse like a chocolate fountain.   It's all the unknown.  It's all out of my control.   It's been terrifying for me.   And probably not that great for the people around me, my family and friends.   I honestly can't imagine what it's like to see someone you love in that state.   I'd want to fix and make it better, but no one can make it better.  They can only do what they are doing and what they have done.   Love me.  Hug me.  Reassure me.  Be there.   

So, I have had the new chemo and I tolerated it so much better than EC which was the first and second one.   I could eat small amounts as opposed to just chewing on a rich tea biscuit which which didn't descend my oesophagus easily.   I ate a lot of baked beans the following week.   I still felt the nausea but it was mainly tolerable with the tablets I am given.  If I was late taking a tablet, the feeling kicked and I knew it was tme. 

I still cried and sobbed at times during the week at mom's house.  I felt because I didn't look as bad as I had the previous time I'd been at mom's that people thought I was ok, I was better. I was talking on the phone.   My messages were more coherent.  But that wasn't the case.   I was still vulnerable and needed support and my mom.  And that is ok.     

The one good thing I did do was to reach out to someone who like me is in a fellowship and who also has had cancer.   Talking to her was reassuring as I was feeling bad because I didn't grateful to be alive, or for the fact that I have a good prognosis,  I didn't feel positive, I could see no light at the end of the tunnel.   And I felt bad for not feeling good or grateful.   But the reality for me is that is how I was feeling and it's partly chemical imbalance and the other part is just being a human being and experiencing feelings.    And it's this part I'm not good at.   It's this part I've fended off for years.   Not totally of course as that would make me completely numb.   I don't tolerate uncertainty very well.   And this experience, this part of my life is making me face uncertainty.   

Another good thing I did was visit my gorgeous boys for a Halloween evening and then a trip out to the Lickey Hills.  It was supposed to be going to see nephew number 3 at football, but it got rained off.  And then the sun appeared so we made the most of it. 

Here ends the summary of the last month.   And I am grateful today for being here.   For feeling well enough today to type this.    


Love Titty and Tracey 



         

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