May Contain Nuts

What a weird day.  

I was left alone in the house today and had plans to get some housework done, but unfortunately my brain went into absolute overdrive this morning. I almost started writing my feelings down, I’m glad I didn’t. The house was quiet; I was sitting on my own and that overactive imagination had me convinced that I’m not strong enough to cope with what’s coming. That I’d convinced everyone that I can do this, when I can’t. That I had lied to everyone, and I would rather curl up in the corner and hide then turn up for any appointments. Would it be easier to take my chances and not get the cancer sorted, than pump poison through my body to get rid of it. Am I worth that? Will my family look after me when I am at my most vulnerable? Will I just be a burden to them? This is a 24-week treatment, followed by surgery. Who is going to clean the house. Nobody else in this house has ever picked up a cloth and dusted or wiped. I watch them every day, collecting the place mats without wiping them. They have never cleaned the oven, or the bath, or the shower, or the toilet, or the bin, or the cupboards, of the skirting boards. I have a full-time job, and they expect me to do it all. How many times will they come home from work and moan about having to do housework, before I get shouted at? And that is just a small amount of what my brain put me through this morning.  

I got scared. Scared that I am going to be left on my own. I can’t be near people when I have no immune system, will anyone understand that or see it as a sign that I am rejecting them? Has any of them investigated how to help some going through chemo or do they expect me to tell them? I don’t know what I need. I don’t know how I’ll feel. I don’t have the answers to anything so how can I tell them? 

So, I treated myself and ordered some lunch for delivery, with a few added extras for dinner. I put my current most favourite album on loud, sang my heart out, and danced around the house. This has always made me feel happy and it worked again today. I then decided to get on with the ironing that needs doing and watch Lucifer, on Netflix, whilst I’m at it. I’ve watched them all before, but I can never be sad whilst watching Tom Ellis! 

Then it happened. That urgent need to go to the toilet. Not a problem, I’ve had days when I’ve needed to go a couple of times. Nothing new there. But then there was a weird, familiar sensation that I haven’t experienced in many, many, years. I’ve had the coil fitted since Hannah was born but decided to get it removed a few weeks ago as I didn’t how it would affect everything. And there I was, having the biggest, heaviest period that I have experienced in years. Periods used to surprise me when I was younger, no pains, no issues, no trouble. This has thrown my emotions into turmoil, my stomach into a bloated mess, and I can’t walk around without feeling I’m going to leak on everything.  

I’m still carrying all those worries with me, but my overreaction to everything this morning will hopefully subside. I might be able to cope better than I think, my family may still love me when I’m driving them crazy with instructions on how to clean the house, or maybe they won’t. 

Is it too late to ask to have the coil put back in?  

Blood test tomorrow.