Using my oncologist’s words, going through chemotherapy is anything but glamorous. After five rounds of chemotherapy, I feel like there’s very little of the old me left. I have no hair and only about 10 eyelashes and 20 eyebrows left. I have deep rings and new wrinkles around my eyes, pale and dry skin, no cheeks and grey lips. Currently there’s no make-up, hat or scarf that can hide that I am a cancer patient. I have a constant and incontrollable running nose and occasional nose bleeds, usually in the most inconvenient moments. My eyes are always wet with tears running down my face. I am always tired and complaining about something: excruciating bone pain, belly pain, headaches or of being unwell or indisposed. I can’t eat this, I can’t eat that. I am forgetful and repetitive.
Yesterday while washing my hands in the bathroom, I looked up and saw a reflection in the mirror, I looked down again but had to look up once more to confirm that the thin pale tired face I saw was actually me. Chemotherapy is a cruel treatment. It can so easily destroy one’s self-esteem. It’s not just the length of the treatment and the unpleasant, painful and debilitating side effects that are emotionally draining, it’s also having to accept that the image you have of yourself is not the image you see reflected in the mirror anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment