Treatment trauma

Meanwhile, perhaps inevitably, I hit the deck - literally! According to Drs, a treatment reaction plus sheer exhaustion. My body has simply stopped working and conked out = bed for three days. Boo hoo!

It was just all a bit too good to be true. We’d made it to the outdoor theatre last Monday, which felt like such an indulgent treat on a beautiful summer evening. Plus, I managed a bike ride on day 5 this time, bringing it forward a day each treatment - albeit almost giving myself a respiratory arrest at the top of a hill with Lila on the back and having to reach for emergency water in her beaker (that she had kindly regurgitated bits of food in for me – yum). But it all felt like such an achievement… Jane Tomlinson I am not, but I could be cycling to hospital by the last dose, ha ha. And then, wham… out of nowhere, a severe stomach reaction to the medication. So it’s been another tough few days, another hurdle on the mountain and another fucker on this journey!

I guess I’ve had a real taster of feeling like a Cancer patient! ‘You are’ I hear you shout but, actually, I don’t want to be and have done quite a good job at kidding myself so far. But these last few days, I’ve felt bad, poorly, sad and ill - especially in the mornings. I’m feeling old, like the treatment is taking its toll, like it’s making its mark, its imprint. Bald, pale and with PICC line in the arm is not a good look and can start a normal day off quite emotionally – let alone when you’re feeling ill!  Quite frankly, I want this ALL OVER WITH RIGHT NOW and a big fat slice of normality to come crashing into our lives please! So, I gave in to a few days of cosy bed, PJs, snoozes, films and reading. Silver lining? Not really – I’m rubbish at being ill! Oh, the irony!

The days passed and I hit another ultimate C low point… More tears as I wasn't well enough to accompany Wayne and Tilly on our planned ‘Tilly Mummy Daddy’ outing to the carnival. Too sad. It was meant to be our end of holiday special time together without her sister competing for attention. HUMPH! I cry as I wave them off together, Tilly asking why I’m not coming – but, thankfully, easily distracted by the excitement. Suddenly, halfway feels like nowhere land. Three more treatments feels unachievable right now and brings with it new anxieties. How will I cope with the new medications? How will I cope if the insomnia is worse? If the side effects are worse? I know my worries are always heightened when feeling ill but I can’t help it… I’m a natural born worrier.

I can totally relate to this Poem right now......

Thankfully though, I'm pleased to report I'm past the worst, back up and running, just, and embracing being Mummy to two while Wayne away.