I’ve made a promise to myself this week to not be as slovenly as I normally am. I’m not going to let my last round of chemotherapy get to me. I’m going to make sure that I get myself washed and dressed and read books or watch a Christmas film or two. It knocks me out and I do rest, but sometimes spending too much time in pyjamas doesn’t help me. So, even if it’s just a change of night pyjamas to day pyjamas, a change has got to be better. Unfortunately, it’s hard to try and do things when you have been awake more than asleep during the night because of the achy legs and steroids. Plus, I think sometimes there is a bit of hunger in there as well.
On Friday I managed to get a few more Christmas decorations up. Saturday, I did a bit of housework and some tidying. Today my tastebuds are at the weird stage where they can cope with the water but it’s not tasting as good as it used to. But it’s the coldness that I struggle with. My nose is constantly cold, and I can always feel a draft around my neck. I either sit with a hoody up or a shawl around my head. I’m sitting here typing and my hands are getting cold. I have slippers and socks on, but my feet won’t warm up. I can snuggle up in bed and try and stay warm, and then the hot flush starts, and I kick the covers off quickly to cool myself down. Thankfully this only goes on for the time that I am injecting myself with filgrastim, which will finish on Wednesday so the hot flushes should ease after that. I take three anti-sickness pills every day this week and I’m constantly keeping a check of my bowel movements. These will be the things that I look forward to doing without in the future.
I was told last week that it may be my last chemotherapy, but I will continue with the immunotherapy alongside the surgery. They have assured me that I won’t need to have the filgrastim, so I can stop injecting myself. I will have two rounds of the Pembo every three weeks, and then it will change to every six weeks. But I have not been told when this will end, so let’s just hope it won’t go on for longer than the year that they originally told me.
I’m going to stop typing now as my fingers are too cold to continue. I could’ve taken breaks, but the way my brain is working it would forget what I have been doing. Besides, I wanted to get this finished.
I’m not sure how to describe how I felt this morning. It was the last chemotherapy, so I was happy about that, but I didn’t want to put my body through one more round. But it had to be done.
Walked onto Bay 2 and was offered a choice of any of the six chairs. There was a brand-new chair, so I chose to try that out. I can confirm that it was not the most comfortable and needed a pillow behind you to either sit on or rest against. It was so newfangled; it had scales built into it which they promised they would turn off so that no-one else could see my weight!
A little while after I arrived, a younger man turned up. I had heard him talking to someone in the waiting room about his daily radiotherapy and weekly chemotherapy. He wasn’t feeling too good so he had curtains around him so he could sleep.
After he arrived, Pauline from my last chemo session came into Bay 2 and she chose to sit next to me. She was very happy to see me as I think she likes to have a familiar face. She had previously told me about her health anxiety and how she carries everything in a bag with her in case she needs anything. She asked me how my bone pain was after the last round, and I told her that it was so much better than the round before, and all I had taken was one lot of paracetamols. She told me that after her first injection, she either passed out or had a seizure, and they had to call the chemo unit and call out an ambulance. She had to stop her filgrastim injections, and they were now changing the injections to a milder course. Pauline was on her last EC the same as me and now she will be changing to paclitaxel, which was the weekly one that I started with. Although, I think she is having hers every three weeks. It still blows my mind that everyone’s treatment is so different.
There was an older lady in the bed opposite next to the window, but she didn’t have any treatment and then the chair was cleaned. I have no idea why, but these things often happen. I was happy to see Linda arrive and take that chair. We had two other men in the bay with us; one had a loud phone and was constantly sending messages or calling people, the other man wasn’t talking to anyone and refused any food that Bev offered to him as he had his own food. So, Linda’s arrival meant that it was a half and half split and we could sit and chat and ignore the men. Linda being Linda, arrived with a sparkling musical Christmas hat and her Christmas t-shirt. She had bought Megan, the nurse, some Christmas socks, so Megan made her a Father Christmas which got Linda very emotional. She was saying that she has been having a few down days. Her chemo is palliative care, and she has been having treatment since 2018, but she has been thinking that what if this year is her last Christmas. She has always been so positive, the growth on her liver has shrunk in size, but there will come a time when the chemotherapy stops working and she will have to stop treatment. She doesn’t want to give up; she wants to keep fighting. I just hope there is a breakthrough soon that will help her.
Pauline gave me a small bag full of hats. She said that someone had given them to her, but some of them were just too small for her, and she wondered if they would fit me. I tried a couple on, and they felt comfortable, so I thought it was easier to take them all and try them on in a more relaxed environment. When I got them home, I washed them all. Some of them are for children so I will donate them to either pre-loved re-loved or I will bring them back with me and see if the chemo unit can pass them to the children’s unit.
We had lunch, had our EC chemotherapy, and Pauline left a few minutes before me. I said goodbye to Linda and the grumpy men. It’s quicker to have chemo without the cold cap, but it’s disappointing that I couldn’t do the full 16. I’m happy with no hair, I was always happy to have no hair. It’s just sad to know that the cold cap couldn’t save all my hair and left me with bald patches anyway. I would’ve stopped sooner if I had known. I would’ve either continued to the end to finish the course or never bothered in the first place. We were just never going to know how my body would react. Some people had to stop after a couple of uses; I managed 14.
Simon brought me home and he went off to work. Emily was at university and Hannah went off to work. It’s weird to think that they used to all try and stay at home to look after me. Now they just bugger off and leave me! It’s not become such a part of my life that they know I can manage and look after myself for a few more days.
Hannah should’ve been having a 1:1 training session before my chemotherapy appointment, but it had been cancelled on our way there, so we popped to Costa for a coffee and a tea and a relaxation before going to the hospital. I knew that if I got to the hospital early, they wouldn’t make me sit and wait too long, so I told Hannah to take me there early so that she could come back home and get on with the rest of her day.
I arrived thirty minutes early and of course they called me through after a few minutes of waiting. I was a bit anxious about not using the cold cap, but Lammy eased my fears by telling me that I had done all I can. Fourteen cold cap sessions are a lot more than other people had done. I had tried it and shown that with the paclitaxel it had worked, but the new chemotherapy is not behaving the same and I shouldn’t feel bad about it. I just have two more sessions to go. Lammy then told me that he used to work in private chemotherapy care in Harley Street. He went to a talk about how to use the cold cap and was sat next to Trevor Sorbie (Lammy had no idea who he was) and Trevor was there as his brother’s wife had just been diagnosed and he wanted to know what he could do to help seeing as he is a successful hairdresser. He started a charity called “My New Hair” to help train hairdressers with wigs that will make the wig look more like real hair. Lammy also told me that through the Harley Street doctors, the patients had their chemotherapy treatments at home with a specially made cold cap that they kept in their freezer. So that’s what money buys you, and your own nurses at home with you.
Anyway, the things you get to experience whilst using the NHS are the lovely nurses and doctors on the chemo unit. The other patients certainly make for a fun packed day! The lovely Pauline that sat opposite me today was from South Africa. She said that her parents had moved over here years ago when she was younger, and she loves living in Whitham. She has been with her girlfriend for the past two years and has been surprised that she has stayed with her through her treatment. Pauline had her surgery first; she had a full mastectomy on her left breast, and a breast reduction on her right breast. She said that her cancer is HER2 positive. I told her that mine is triple negative so chemo first. She has advised me to get the whey protein that bodybuilders use, as she believes that is what has helped her to get through her surgery better. She only needed drains for a week instead of the usual two, so I told her I would investigate it. Any help to get through surgery quicker is a bonus.
Pauline is also on EC chemotherapy, but she has said that the steroids have made her feel very hungry and she has put on weight. Her tablets are the same as mine, just three days of steroids and anti-sickness pills, but she didn’t have immunotherapy, so there were no injections for her. So, as much as she was eating more, I struggled the other way where I had to take the anti-sickness to give me the ability to stomach food afterwards. It’s amazing how we can go through the same things, but all have different side effects.
There were two men in Bay 3 with us, and they both seemed to be there for their first rounds of chemotherapy. They seemed ok but kept themselves to themselves. One of them seemed to spend most of his time on the phone with his wife/girlfriend. Right from the start, I did things the other way and just sent pictures to the family rather than calling them, and it has been that way ever since. I talk to them all when I get home, but the chemo unit is not somewhere where I ever want them to experience, so I try to keep it separate from our family life.
During one of our conversations, Pauline mentioned that she was using loop earplugs. She said that she feels drained when she gets home from artificial lighting, and she was trying the loop earplugs as she finds that she gets really overstimulated from all the conversations and the noises on the unit. I make her right. I used to think that a lot of the tiredness when I got home was from the antihistamines, but I haven’t had them for the past few sessions, and I was still feeling weird coming home. I was blaming the chemotherapy, but it absolutely makes sense. It’s tiring not from too much rest, but from too much stimulation.
Without having the cold cap, my treatment finished earlier than usual, so Simon left work early. I then had to wait for my prescriptions, which they normally do whilst the cold cap was on. I must remember getting them earlier next time as that was boring sitting around waiting for the pharmacy to hurry up.
It was another night for me to wake up after 4am. So, when I woke up, I put my air pods in and listened to some podcasts. I thought I didn’t disturb Simon that much. It turns out that when I giggle listening to Chatabix (Joe Wilkinson and David Earl) it wakes Simon up. So now I will have to make sure that I listen to the boring ones!
Only having about 6 hours of sleep and then taking steroids during the day often leaves me fit and able to do things around the house but makes me tired so I must sit and rest for a while. I probably should nap but I can’t even do that properly as I am not tired enough for it. It’s all ups and downs. But the end is getting nearer, and I know I can get through this. I’ve managed so far, there is no way that I am going to let it get to me now.
On Friday, I managed to get some housework and cooking done. On Saturday I could feel my energy levels going down, but Simon wanted to get his vinyl into the new boxes he ordered, so I cracked on and did that until I couldn’t do any more. Today (Sunday), I made a call to Andrew and Sarah while my energy levels were up. Ate lunch on my own as the girls were stuck in traffic, and I’ve been fighting with my stomach and tiredness ever since. So, I read my book for a little while whilst my temperature slowly declined, and I thought doing my blog would be a good way to end the afternoon. Hopefully I’ll manage a child-sized portion of food this evening. Might have to be Emily cooking today as I’m not feeling it now.
How did I forget the pain? Somehow, I had wiped it from my memory. All it took was one back twinge and everything came flooding back. Day 9 will now need to be marked in my diary with a big red mark.
Friday was not the best of mornings. I had found out Thursday night that Hannah has now decided that deceit and untruthfulness are acceptable for her when she made out that Tom had gone home, when in fact he stayed over on the “night she wanted to spend with her family”. She gave no apology to any of us that live here, packed her bags for a weekend away with Tom’s family, and off she fucked. So, relationship with youngest child in tatters, I thought I would spend the day with Emily doing what she wanted to do. We had a nice lunch and Emily decided that she wanted to continue watching The Witcher series (with the Hemsworth Geralt) so that is what we did.
Simon went out in the evening with Tim to see Howard DJing, and Emily and I watched another Witcher. I thought I had been feeling a bit better, but a bit weird, for most of the day, and whilst lying on the sofa I could feel a strange heaviness in my hips and pelvis. I decided to go to bed, and Emily was happy to go up as well. Whilst in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I had to put another lot of hair that was falling out of head in the bin. Of course, the hair missed the bin and fell on the floor, so I had to bend down to pick it up … and that’s when it happened. The pulsing in my pelvis and spine made me feel like I was going to fall over. It was radiating low down, and I couldn’t catch my breath enough to stand up. After a short while, I was able to move my legs enough to get back up into a standing position again. This eased the pain, but the memories of the last round of chemo came flooding back. I thought that back pain was from drinking too much/not drinking enough.
I settled myself into bed with some extra pillows to help me sit up comfortably and decided to search the internet. And there it was; back pain with filgrastim. The immunotherapy injections that I detest doing are the cause of the pain I am experiencing. I checked on the Cancer Research forum and the Macmillan Cancer Support forum, and there were posts saying that the pain is a sign of the immunotherapy working. The hips, breastbone and spine are the largest areas of bone marrow, which is where the white blood cells are produced. The immunotherapy makes the bone marrow produce more white blood cells and the pressure of this inside the bone makes them hurt. As per usual, with most forums, the people that were talking about the pain were the ones who had been hospitalised with it. Some of them were saying that even morphine hadn’t helped. Some had said that their doctors had advised paracetamol, whilst others said ibuprofen. The one thing that I couldn’t understand was I have taken these injections with the previous chemotherapy but hadn’t felt pain like this before. The only thing that is different is that I am not given antihistamines once a week. A couple of women had said their chemo units had told them to take a non-drowsy antihistamine. Of course, I would be having these pains on a Friday night, when the chemo unit is closed and won’t be open again until Monday. I refuse to call the emergency number. So, I lay in bed, trying to find the right position to lie in. I did it on the last round, I managed to cope with it enough to get through a few days of bone pain, so I was sure I could do it again.
Simon came home and was happily chatting away about his night out, but I couldn’t hold the tears in any longer. The throbbing and the pain and the ache became so bad that the only relief I could get was from crying. Simon kept telling me to take paracetamol, but I wasn’t sure if that would do anything. Plus, I have stayed away from any kind of pain relief throughout everything, and I didn’t want to start now. I had remembered the heat pack that was in the box of gifts I had been given on the day of my diagnosis and how it was there to help with the pains that come with the treatment. Simon filled up one of my hot water bottles and held it on the base of my spine and it helped so much. It didn’t take away the weird constant throbbing and the terrible ache, but it did lessen the pain. Sleep didn’t come very quickly and when it did it wasn’t for long.
There were so many thoughts that were going through my head when I was struggling with the pain. The biggest one was “is it worth going through all of this with every round of chemotherapy?” That’s when I got scared. I’ve been given 24 weeks of chemotherapy, but this is triple negative cancer, and it is the most aggressive form of cancer. If it doesn’t respond to this treatment, what other harsher treatments will they then put me on? I could go through all this now, only for it to come back in a couple of years. Do I want my life to be full of pain and sickness? How much longer will I have left with my family and friends?
I struggled through most of Saturday. I was either overthinking about everything when the pain had subsided or just lying down with the hot water bottle when the pain came back. There was an awful lot of me feeling sorry for myself, but I wasn’t going to feel guilty about putting me first and just taking the time to heal.
When I woke this morning, my night’s sleep had been so much better, and the throbbing is now just more of a manageable niggle. Simon took Emily and I out to lunch after she finished work, and I did a little bit of housework and cooked us all a nice roast dinner in the evening whilst Simon watched the England match, and Emily did some university work. The fears of me not surviving this are still there, but I don’t want to be remembered as giving up. I will keep taking the treatments and on the good days I will try and make happy memories with my family and friends.
My appointment with the picc nurse was at 8:30am on Friday. All she did was clean and dry my arm and put on a new cover. She’s given me some of the old covers so that the district nurses doesn’t have to use the gel ones. They go mushy and stick to my picc line and then it’s tough to clean off. Seeing as the appointment was early in the morning, Emily said that she would treat me to breakfast at Scott’s. I ate so much spinach! That’s got to be a good thing, surely?
Friday evening, we had a family dinner booked for Hannah’s birthday. Unfortunately, Emily agreed to cover a shift, so it was just Simon, Hannah, Tom and myself. We went to the Harvester and had some really nice food, and I managed to eat it all.
On Saturday, Simon and Hannah went to a Southend away match, so I was left taking and picking up Emily from work. She was working 3pm to 7pm, so I had a few hours to myself. I decided to do a bit of cleaning. It started when I wanted to print a crochet pattern. The printer needed ink in it. The computer table was covered in dust, so I chucked everything onto the floor and cleaned and tidied. Two hours later, the crochet pattern was printed, and the computer and table were completely clean. All paperwork sorted. All that cleaning had made my picc line leak again. It must happen when I use the muscles in my right arm too much. It’s so hard not using your dominant arm. I can’t strap my arm to my side. This is such a pain as I feel like I’m strong enough to get things done but can’t risk the picc cover leaking. Stupid arm. I’ll be glad when the picc line is finally taken out.
Sunday morning my picc line was nice and dry. I did some washing up and a bit of cleaning and it had leaked again. How ridiculous. I can’t leave everything to the family to do, or some things will never get done. So, I will just keep changing my sleeves to keep everything clean and dry and carry on with a leaking picc cover.
Went to watch Hannah play football and got a bit cold, but apparently not as cold as Simon. I did have my hat on, so maybe that helped me a bit more.
Simon and I had said that we would go to Hyde Hall today for a lunch date. We had a nice slow walk around the gardens and had a nice lunch. I wasn’t out of breath at all, so these new rounds of chemotherapy may be harsher, but the recovery time means that I feel better. More human, dare I say it. I look forward to the last three rounds being the same, or even better.
I’ve cut down to two anti-sickness pills a day now as the lunch one I can cope without. I made dinner for Emily and I today and I didn’t take a pill with it. I felt a bit hot afterwards, but my stomach feels fine. I didn’t have a full meal, so maybe that will be something to try tomorrow. If I feel brave enough to do it.
Another Thursday without chemotherapy. This is such a weird feeling. I know I only had 12 weeks of weekly treatment, but it’s still a strange concept to be having treatment and not having to go to the hospital every Thursday.
I feel so much better this week. My breathing is not so laboured and I’m not so breathless when doing things. I have even suggested to Simon that we go for a walk on Monday. I know! A day out with a slow walk. Who even am I?!
My week has been filled with seeing people, which has been lovely. I have felt more human and part of the world outside.
Monday, Gary made a lovely Mexican lunch for Karen, Hannah and I, and we watched Muriel’s Wedding. Tuesday, Faye and Jo popped in with coffee and croissants, and we had a good old work catch up. Wednesday, Jackie came in for tea and biscuits, and James came in with his lunch and natter in the afternoon. I was hoping the district nurse would arrive before Jackie did, but Emily did well to make conversation with Jackie whilst I had my picc line cleaned. Today, Penny came in for a long overdue catch-up, but I felt like I did most of the talking about my diagnosis and barely asked her about what’s happening with her and the family. I will rectify that by inviting her out for coffee in a couple of weeks.
Speaking of picc lines, I woke up this morning to find that it had leaked. I knew the district nurse had rushed things a bit as it didn’t feel like the area had fully dried when she stuck the cover on. It’s leaked out the bottom and stuck to the sleeve. The district nurse had said to me to call if it leaked again, so I did. Waited most of the day for a district nurse to arrive, but the call I got was from another nurse who told me to call the picc nurses if it’s leaking. So that’s where I am going tomorrow.
I went out to breakfast this morning with some of the lovely women I work with, and they had invited along our recently retired boss, Katharine. The first thing she said to me was – should you be out? I just replied with – of course I am Mum, I’m fine! But that got me thinking. Do people think I’m supposed to sit at home and hide?
I have some amazing friends who have always been there for me over the years, but since my diagnosis, I just haven’t seen them. Why haven’t I seen them? What is it that I’ve done that makes them feel that they must stay away? People message and say, let me know when you want to meet for a coffee. How am I supposed to know when they are free for a coffee? I sit at home, all day, every day, going nowhere. They are the ones who have busy lives with their jobs and their families.
It’s a sad but true thing that I have seen my physiotherapist more times since my diagnosis than I have some of my friends. I must say though, my physiotherapist has done an amazing job of helping fix my rotator cuff injury!
So why have my friends been avoiding me? Is it easier for them to stay away due to the guilt they have about being fit and well whilst I am going through treatment? Do they think I have to live in a germ-free bubble where the outside world is not allowed to get anywhere near me? Or is it that age old thing of everyone being so bloody polite that they are waiting for me to message them to ask them to come over? Because, if that’s the case, I would be messaging them every single day of the week.
I’m bored. I’m lonely. I don’t want to sit and read books every day or watch tv. I’m becoming disinterested in doing anything, because, what’s the point when no-one wants to see you. Why get dressed? Why do anything?
Yet going out this morning has made me realise that I’m still me. I sat with a group of women who talked about work, and they made me laugh, and they made me feel that I am still alive. I listened to the gossip, the dramas that had happened, the things that were happening in their lives. They didn’t ask me about how the treatment was going; they were too busy filling me in on everything I had missed since the last time we got together.
On Monday I am going to have lunch with another couple of friends, because they messaged and asked if I was free. Of course I’m free. If I don’t feel well enough to go, I will have to cancel. But I have been well, and that’s what has been affecting me the most. In fact, I have been doing so well on some weeks, I have been just logging on to everything at work and trying to keep myself occupied with that. Who does that? Someone who’s bored, that’s who does that.
And it’s not just my friends; it’s my family as well. I feel like they now see me as something that just hangs around the house. Simon took me out to lunch, once. We went out to dinner as a family, once. I paid for us all to go away as a family for the weekend, and it felt like something normal as we went to out and did things together. But do I have to keep paying for weekends away just to get that feeling again? I have two working children who haven’t taken me out. Some days I feel like the only thing I am needed for is to be a taxi service for Emily. Hannah would rather go for days out with Tom. There is no thought in that child’s head to do something with me.
So, if my own family don’t want to do things with me, is it any wonder that my friends don’t want to do anything with me either. Do they all think I am too fragile to do anything? Or are they all just getting on with their lives and thinking I am happy to be the person that life forgot? Is this the superpower that chemotherapy gives you; the ability to be completely alive in the world yet completely invisible to everyone at the exact same time.
I’ve been good this week and had made sure that I had been keeping up with my fluid intact.
The district nurse came out yesterday to take my bloods. She was going to do a picc line dressing change, but I told her not to worry about it as the hospital will do it tomorrow before my chemo. The nurse seemed such a nice lady. Weirdly, she had to wear a mask as I am classed as vulnerable. I guess she has been seeing other patients before me.
Woke up in plenty of time, had my usual bath, and got my bag ready for a long day at the hospital. Lower back started hurting last night and hasn’t gone away this morning. I hope it’s not my kidneys.
Got to the chemo unit, only had to wait half an hour to go through. Told Lauren that ny back was hurting and I was worried about my kidney function. She came back and said that my bloods were fine, then she offered me paracetamol for the pain, but I requested a pillow instead and used that to support my lower back. It’s been fine since, but that might be the steroids that are helping it. Who knows.
I was in Bay 4 again today. 4 women, 2 men. The man next to me was there having his first round of chemotherapy. He said that he went to the doctors as he was getting a little bit out of breath when walking up a hill, so he was sent for tests, and they found he has lung cancer. He was having the same drugs as me, chemo and immunotherapy, so we were having a race with our meds during the day. Of course, I beat him as my picc line gets everything in faster. And I also had the cold cap on for an extra hour and a half!
The other man that was in with us was a snorer. He kept nodding off to sleep and throughout the day. When he was leaving at the end of his treatment, he apologised to everyone about his loud snores! I thought that was quite sweet of him as he could’ve just walked away and not said anything.
There was an Asian lady who was also having her first round of chemotherapy, but she was struggling with it throughout the day. She didn’t eat any lunch and slept through most of it. When she was waking up towards the end and was having her canula removed, they had to pull the curtain around her so she could be sick in one of the bowls. They had to give her the emergency sickness pill that I have but haven’t needed to use yet. At least I know now when I should use it and how.
I was finished by 4:15pm so Simon came to pick me up. I was feeling pretty good when I got home, but I was making quite a few weird mistakes. I kept dropping things and somehow managed to slide my watch off my bedside table and Simon had to drag the table away from the wall to reach my trapped watch. I forgot to bring my water upstairs with me, and I’m sure there were other things as well. The strong antihistamines really do make me feel like I’m not in my own body. They make me sleepy and slurry, then the steroids get into your system and you’re wide awake again yet shattered. Plus, I know I will have a bad night’s sleep, but the magnesium spray stops the restless legs, I just wake up at weird o’clock and listen to podcasts. I would read my book, but I don’t want to turn the light on and wake up Simon as he is on the early shift.
We always have Thursday as take-away night, but I’m now getting bored of it. It was curry this week, which was nice, but there was just too much of it for me and Simon will then leave all the leftovers for me.
Oh well, curry for lunch and dinner tomorrow then.
I’m at home whilst James and Nicola are having to cope with all the new Year 7s without me. I feel lost.
I feel like a fraud as I could be in work doing what I should be doing. But I know that will all change by Thursday. I should just relax and read a book or watch some tv. I’m not. I am currently checking my work emails, Go4Schools and MyConcern to see what I can to help me get to know the new students. I’ve also been sorting through old emails and documents and getting rid of anything I don’t need.
Hannah has taken Emily to work and then she’s off to the gym. She put a wash on before she left so I’ll put that out for her. Then I’ll put a couple of our washes on after that. I washed all the towels yesterday, and I was hoping to do the bedding, but Hannah put a wash on. Plus, I need someone to help me get out bedding off … but I might just try to do it one handed!
I’ve been forced to keep looking at myself in the mirror as I need to keep an eye on any marks or bruises that appear. What I have noticed is the puckering on my right breast has now gone. I did wonder how long it would take for the cancer to start shrinking, and I have been checking my boobs at the start of every month, so I feel relieved to know that the treatment is most definitely working.
I’m getting bored of water again. This happened after Day 15 on the first round. I need to keep making sure I drink; I don’t want to be told off again by the chemo nurses.
We went out to dinner as a family this evening. It felt weird and nice, all at the same time. Thankfully the restaurant was quite empty at 6pm so we weren’t too near anyone, but I wasn’t too bothered about that. We had starters and mains, and I made sure I went for the smaller dishes. But I was still really bloated when we finished. It made for an uncomfortable evening. So, I must remember to not try to eat everything, it’s not good for me.
Woke up at 2:35am. Tried to get back to sleep again but my luck was gone. Sprayed my legs with magnesium to help them but sleep still wouldn’t arrive, So, I listened to podcast after podcast, in the dark with my headphones in. Gave up at 8am and got up. I have huge bags under my eyes, but I can’t do much about that.
Went out to breakfast with Jo, Faye, Kim, Andrea and Nicky. It seemed weird to hear them talking about getting ready for work again. I wish I was too. I’m a quarter of the way through so only 18 more weeks of chemo to go. It seems like a long time, and yet the past 6 weeks have just flown by.
I miss my old life. I miss not being able to do all the stuff I usually do. But this is just a small blip in my life. I need to get my knitting needles or crochet hooks out and start making something. I’ll make it productive, so I have things to look at and know I did something useful and not just keep binge-watching great tv shows! I’m watching The Lincoln Lawyer today; at the start of the week, I watched the first season of Wednesday. Once I start watching, I can’t stop. It’s affecting my step count!
I’m hoping to get a better night’s sleep tonight. Fingers crossed.
May Contain Nuts 