Heatherina

Oh Chemo

Voila… my eighth week of chemo.

And it hasn’t gotten any easier.

Certain things get worse as the toxicity of the chemo builds. The numbness in my fingers, toes and lips. The sensitivity to cold. The sensitivity of my teeth and throat, particularly to soda.

When I left the doctor’s office, I was bundled up… pea coat, scarf, head scarf, gloves, 3 layers of shirts, sweatpants… and I watched as kids would breeze by in windbreakers or joggers would pass by in t-shirts and leggings. And there I was freezing… trying to cover my nose which froze almost the minute I walked outside. It feels like that build-up just before you sneeze… except it doesn’t go away until my nose warms up. When it gets really cold I have to be exceptionally careful because my throat starts to close up and it becomes hard to breathe.

I can’t imagine what winter is going to be like. I’m already bundled up and it’s still relatively warm. I invested in a new knee-length down coat, and fake fur-lined boots, gloves, and hat.

I’m still pretty miserable. Anxious and depressed. My doctor says that it’s a delayed response to my diagnosis. She says that it is very common for cancer patients to set aside coping with their diagnosis because they get caught up in the whirlwind of treatment. I am apparently going through the cycle of grief. Something I apparently had been repressing up until now. She told me I’d been too much of a trooper. I didn’t allow myself to really feel upset or angry. So now that everything is calming down and I’m feeling better, my emotions are catching up with me.

The most important thing is that I not get stuck in any one phase of the grief cycle. If my anxiety doesn’t start to subside soon, if I don’t start to pass into the next phase… then it’s time to involve a psychotherapist. The cycle of grief is as follows:

• Shock stage: Initial paralysis at hearing the bad news.

• Denial stage: Trying to avoid the inevitable.

• Anger stage: Frustrated outpouring of bottled-up emotion.

• Bargaining stage: Seeking in vain for a way out.

• Depression stage: Final realization of the inevitable.

• Testing stage: Seeking realistic solutions.

• Acceptance stage: Finally finding the way forward.

So, I guess the testing stage is next. It comes just in time for my test results. I have to schedule all of my scans to see what comes next. I asked the doctor what options I had, but she wouldn’t give me any. She won’t say anything until she sees the test results.

I get really anxious about work. I know I’m not stable enough to go back. And I’m working from home. Right now I’m reading a couple books and doing a lot of research because I really want to understand ovarian cancer more. And being a cancer patient myself, I’m really eager to make a difference. I just feel like I do nothing of value. Entering names into our database, managing and creating sites on facebook and myspace. My enthusiasm and my energy don’t match right now. I know I can’t take on more because I need to keep putting my health first and taking life one step at a time. But I’m dying to get back and really get involved. I feel like I have good ideas and that the girls I work with and I make a good team. I feel like I could make a real difference. And then as soon as I get really into a project, inevitably something comes up with my health. It’s very frustrating.

I am fearful of what is to come. My doctor told me I’m no longer allowed to nap. She thinks it’s sabotaging my sleep and causing me to have such terrible dreams. One thing I really appreciate about her is that she always tries to find a way to fix every problem that doesn’t involve pumping me up with drugs. She could have easily just thrown anti-depressants and sleeping pills at me. Instead, she talked to me about ways to try to make myself relax and be able to calm down naturally.

I’m going to try to start myself on a routine. The last time I tried I wasn’t ready yet, and I made myself sick. I tried too much too fast. But now I think I’m ready to slowly start forming habits. Going to sleep and waking up around the same time each day. Going for a walk around the time when I start to feel icky in the afternoons. Doing some light yoga before bed to calm myself. Of course it won’t be an overnight change. One thing at a time. First I’ll start with regulating my sleep. Then I’ll see what other things I can add in. I will miss my naps though.

I tend to be at my best in the evenings, so I think that is the time to really focus in on my work. I know it’s unconventional and doesn’t fit in with the office schedule, but I guess that’s part of the reason I’m working at home.

I just need to grit my teeth and get through these phases. Particularly this one. I’ve always been a perfectionist and had a tendency towards anxiety… so it’s no surprise that this phase has hit me the hardest.

Ick so here we go… I’m sensitive (emotionally to EVERYTHING and physically to cold), I’m nauseous, my bowels are a mess, and my head is fuzzy. Oh, how I love chemo. I’m hoping by Monday I’ll be feeling a bit normal again. I may need to cheat this weekend when it comes to napping…