F*ck This and Chemo Day Four

Warning:  Read at your own risk.  I wrote the following on the night before Chemo Day 4.  Had a bad day and needed to get it out.  I debated not posting, but this is the 'ugly' of 'the good, the bad, and the ugly'.  I've been told over and over: 'You are doing great!  You look great!  You are handling this really well'.  I am handling this well for the most part.  Trying to do it with grace as an example to my girls.  But it's not that way all the time. 

~~~~~

It's been a day, or rather, a week.  Lots of 'why me?' and the realization that my next decade will not be carefree and breezy.  I miss those easy living days so much that I think (know) I'm mourning who I used to be.

I lost my shit after a call with my nutritionist today.  It was my second appointment with her and I was asking questions like, 'I hear you gain weight with chemo - is that true?'.  Her answer to that shocked me: 'No, but you gain weight with the hormone therapy.'

What. the. fuck.  Really?  Because that's my next 5 to 10 YEARS.  A decade.  If I'm 'lucky'.  

That one statement sent me into a spiral.  Isn't it bad enough that I have chemo toxins literally oozing out of my face in the form of acne?  Doesn't it suck enough to know that this process isn't over by a LONG SHOT?  How barbaric of a process is this that I am freezing my scalp to save my hair and dumping massive amounts of poison ('medicine') into myself weekly, killing both cancerous (if there are any to be found) and healthy cells?  What other nightmares wait down the road?

I'm mad. I'm furious. I'm jealous of all of you reading this that have no idea how this feels, and yet I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  I sat in a grocery store parking lot crying my eyes out after that call.  And then had to put on a mask to shop as I'm immunocompromised now and I can't get sick because that will delay this fucking process even more.

Part of me wants to say 'no' - stop the treatment and let this ride.  I understand now why some people choose to pass. Roll the dice and see what happens. Because I. do. not. want. to. live. like. this.  I do not want to be tethered to a hospital for the next decade.  I do not want this port in my chest that aches every time I work out or rollover the wrong way in bed.  I do not want to look sick, feel sick, waste this one precious life being sick.  I do not want my nose to bleed every day because my body is bone dry from chemo.  I do not want to limit my husband and girls from doing anything and everything they want because I can't.

Someone said to me 'but you'll be fine'.  Yes after all of this treatment, but at what cost and how many months and years?  The mountain I have to climb will take a huge toll on my body and mind.  I know I will never be 'fine' again. I most certainly won't be carefree.  I will, even if/when cured, ALWAYS looking over my shoulder to see if this monster catches up with me again.  

Chemo Day Four is lurking.  And I'm not excited about these days anymore.  I am dreading them and the wait to see what happens to my body next.  And please don't say 'you look great'.  I don't. I know it.  

~~~~~

So there you have it.  The 'ugly'.  But it's honest, if not a little raw, and it's the way I felt last night.  

Chemo Day Four was fine.  Arrived on time, port access went much better.  Used Glad Cling Wrap over the Lidocaine and it worked like a charm and the port nurse (I have her name) was awesome and I will be requesting her in the future.  Back to chat with my oncologist who, when spied my list of questions (typed, 2 pages), gently said 'let's go, I have other patients to see too'. She answered them all.  Off to infusion room 4 (my favorite!) with my husband and cold capping goddess friend. Infusion room 4 (no lights on): 

Cap on, drugs in, 17 minutes pass and onto chemo, put ice socks on my feet, hug cold capping goddess goodbye and I'm out.  Very sleepy, eat some lunch, head home.  Nap for 3 hours.  Shower and rinse the cold cap conditioner out of my hair.  Now I'm typing here.

Made my 5:30am workout last week on Thursday and hope to again tomorrow morning.  Better day.  1/3 of the way done with chemo.  Last treatment will hopefully around Christmas. Would be the best gift ever.  xo J

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