Sometimes I have the impression that some people think that because the treatments are finished (not counting with the hormonal treatment, which in fact also has pretty annoying side effects) and because I normally say that I had cancer (in the past tense), that I am supposed to be positive and back to normal. But having cancer is not like having the flu. When you have the flu, you feel miserably sick but then you recover and get back to normal, without any consequences. With cancer it doesn’t work that way. There are physical, psychological and emotional, financial, social and work related consequences, everything is affected.
Physically, treatments leave behind fatigue, sleeping problems, induced menopause, discomforts caused by surgery and chemo, peripheral neuropathy from chemo, aches and pains, nails and hair loss.
The psychological and emotional effects of cancer and treatments are more complex. I can think of fear, anger, worry, frustration, sadness, anxiety, loss of self-confidence, grief and guilt. With these ones I can deal with, the worst part is being able to find a good balance between uncertainty and hope. I will see my doctors more often than I will see some of my good friends. And each doctor’s appointment triggers a series of emotions that start with fear of recurrence and hopefully end with relief and sense of security. And the emotional consequences are extended to my husband, family and close friends. They too worry and feel anxious.
Financially, being away from work for such a long period has a direct impact on income and having had cancer may also have a long term impact on my career. On top of this, insurances and mortgages will become harder to get.
Socially, I feel very often that people don’t understand me, some people don’t know how to behave towards me, I don’t know how to behave around new people and very often I worry about the changes to my appearance and about what people see when they look at me. I think they don’t see me, but the sick me.
Going back to work requires physical and emotional strength and I really admire those who can work during treatments. I know now that I went back too early. I feel completely overwhelmed, I am way too tired and emotionally weak. I definitely suffer from chemo-brain, I can’t concentrate, or talk and write at the level it is required.
I know that with time I will settle back into my old routines, getting out more, exercising more, and enjoying things in general more. Days are longer and weather is getting better, this helps. I am going to start stepping out at Baker Street station and walk through Regents Park back home.
Showing posts with label Nails. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nails. Show all posts
31 March 2011
23 March 2011
Spring
The house has been taken over by spiders, bees and lady birds.
S. doesn't allow me to vacuum or smash them with a slipper, instead he tries to catch them with a glass and then puts them in the garden. Very correct! In the meantime we've been living with a big creepy hairy spider on the ceiling of our bedroom and one in the bathroom (not to mention the ones that come and go), a family of lady birds and a couple of noisy bumblebees. These were the first signs of spring.
It was a fantastic spring day today: bright sun, blue sky and warm. I was off today so I went to meet J. for lunch. We sat by the canal, absorbing the sun while eating a sandwich. It was super nice. Nothing like a bit of sun to cheer me up.
The day didn't start so well today, I lost a fingernail which was a big shock because I thought all my fingernails would survive, but I was wrong. If I look carefully I can see that at least two more nails are going to fall off soon. I had never seen a finger without a nail... it looks weird,... pink. Not everyone can say they have touched their scalp and nail bed, right? Well, I can. So, what does a 36 year old woman do when she looses a nail? She calls her mother to do a sniffie sniffie. So grown up! Sometimes I wonder if my mother called her mother for every little thing.
S. doesn't allow me to vacuum or smash them with a slipper, instead he tries to catch them with a glass and then puts them in the garden. Very correct! In the meantime we've been living with a big creepy hairy spider on the ceiling of our bedroom and one in the bathroom (not to mention the ones that come and go), a family of lady birds and a couple of noisy bumblebees. These were the first signs of spring.
It was a fantastic spring day today: bright sun, blue sky and warm. I was off today so I went to meet J. for lunch. We sat by the canal, absorbing the sun while eating a sandwich. It was super nice. Nothing like a bit of sun to cheer me up.
The day didn't start so well today, I lost a fingernail which was a big shock because I thought all my fingernails would survive, but I was wrong. If I look carefully I can see that at least two more nails are going to fall off soon. I had never seen a finger without a nail... it looks weird,... pink. Not everyone can say they have touched their scalp and nail bed, right? Well, I can. So, what does a 36 year old woman do when she looses a nail? She calls her mother to do a sniffie sniffie. So grown up! Sometimes I wonder if my mother called her mother for every little thing.
02 March 2011
Having fun
Yesterday I had the last of the monthly appointments with my oncologist. The next appointment will be in six months, hurray! Not that I don’t like her, but I am just so happy to free myself from all these medical appointments.
According to her I am well: the leg pain is likely to be remains of the chemotherapy induced bone pain, not having hair yet is unusual but can happen (the more I stress about it the less it will grow!), my horrible looking nails are slowly getting better, my skin and scars look great (as great as a scar and burnt skin can look like!), the hot flashes are getting milder (or I am getting used to them!), my ovaries are still not working (but there’s still hope!) and my energy levels will increase with time. At the end of the consultation she told me: “now go and have fun, enjoy life”.
Have fun. Sounds scary. I am not sure I know how to have fun anymore. Does it mean I have to relax now? Huummm, hard thing to do, I tell you.
The first step should be to stop staring into the mirror counting every single hair I see. It was easier to be bald during chemotherapy, I was so concentrated in keeping my food down that not having hair became secondary. Now that my face is round again, my eyes shine and my cheeks have some colour, not having hair became an obsession.
Today I saw a baby with less hair than me, when this thought crossed my mind “Ah! He has less hair than I do!” I had to laugh. Silly me, competing with a baby!
To be fair, I had some fun during these months, I can think of many occasions when I was relaxed and enjoying. I did a lot of things that make me happy and not all was bad.
But I do feel some kind of pressure to be happy now. Several people have asked me if I plan to do something special, radical, different or challenging. What people forget is that last year was all of that already and all I want now is peace. I actually just want normality, a routine that doesn’t include hospitals. No, I don’t feel the need to climb the Kilimanjaro, kayak the Mekong or meditate in India.
According to her I am well: the leg pain is likely to be remains of the chemotherapy induced bone pain, not having hair yet is unusual but can happen (the more I stress about it the less it will grow!), my horrible looking nails are slowly getting better, my skin and scars look great (as great as a scar and burnt skin can look like!), the hot flashes are getting milder (or I am getting used to them!), my ovaries are still not working (but there’s still hope!) and my energy levels will increase with time. At the end of the consultation she told me: “now go and have fun, enjoy life”.
Have fun. Sounds scary. I am not sure I know how to have fun anymore. Does it mean I have to relax now? Huummm, hard thing to do, I tell you.
The first step should be to stop staring into the mirror counting every single hair I see. It was easier to be bald during chemotherapy, I was so concentrated in keeping my food down that not having hair became secondary. Now that my face is round again, my eyes shine and my cheeks have some colour, not having hair became an obsession.
Today I saw a baby with less hair than me, when this thought crossed my mind “Ah! He has less hair than I do!” I had to laugh. Silly me, competing with a baby!
To be fair, I had some fun during these months, I can think of many occasions when I was relaxed and enjoying. I did a lot of things that make me happy and not all was bad.
But I do feel some kind of pressure to be happy now. Several people have asked me if I plan to do something special, radical, different or challenging. What people forget is that last year was all of that already and all I want now is peace. I actually just want normality, a routine that doesn’t include hospitals. No, I don’t feel the need to climb the Kilimanjaro, kayak the Mekong or meditate in India.
27 January 2011
Turning into a drama queen
I feel so decrepit! All I can do is complain about my looks. No hair, no nails, dry and grey skin, no boob, no sleep, always tired... Since my toenail episode I have been completely obsessed about my nails. I assumed that since the chemo was finished so would the side effects. Unfortunately not. Yesterday two fingernails detached from the nail bed, you can probably imagine how affected and sad I was. I don’t like crying alone, it’s a bit like drinking alone, it’s depressing, so I waited until S. got home and the moment he got in I did a little ‘sniff sniff, waah, waah’ and got a good dose of “miminhos”* which made me feel immediately better. That’s what husbands are for. My nails are in a critical condition! They have been sore, yellow, deformed and weak for months, but I was hoping they would not fall off. Wrong, I was wrong. The upside is now I have the perfect excuse not to do dishes or any other task I dislike, eh, eh!
But do you know who is more decrepit than me? Rod Stewart. I saw him shopping today, I was queuing to pay behind him and his wife (a very tall girl, taller than me and I am 180cm). His voice is unmistakable, and so is his hair. I thought it was cool to see him but he looks a bit passé.
Today I had a consultation with my radiotherapy oncologist and decided to ask if she had any tips on how to take care of my nails. She called the nurse, who called another nurse and before I knew it I had three people analysing my nails and giving me tips. Basically there’s not much I can do apart from cutting them as short as possible and avoiding using the tip of my fingers. They are doomed, condemn to death. And to make it worse, I was told that a nail may take six months to grow back. Will I ever look normal again?
During the consultation I also took the opportunity to mention something that has been worrying me for a while. I have been having some pain on my lower leg, a persistent annoying pain, similar to the bone pain I had during chemo. To give me some peace of mind she sent me to have an X-ray done. I brought the X-rays with me but unfortunately when I look at it all I can see is very straight normal looking bones. Luckily, the nurse called me in the afternoon to let me know it all looks absolutely fine, which is a relief. I have to relax and stop worrying about every single little ache.
My fighting mode seems to be off since Christmas. Everything seems heavier than before. I am sad more often and I worry all the time. I am aware of this and I am trying to reverse it. I started doing some yoga exercises at home with the help of a DVD someone gave me, I go to the gym more often, I have massages every week, I do fun stuff and I became a shopaholic. I admit, I buy just for the fun of buying. I discovered the therapeutic effects of shopping. How come no one thought of adding shopping to the list of complementary therapies? When I was working, and actually making some money, I had no time to go shopping and spend money, now I can spend hours in shops, it’s great. I never bought so many clothes as in these last two months. Most of it on sale so I only feel half-guilty but still... Do I need all these new clothes? Not really. Does it make me feel good? Oh yes it does.
While walking in the labyrinth of corridors of the clinic, one of the breast cancer nurses asked me if I would like to participate in a fund raising event. I said ‘Sure but what would that entail?’ ‘Modelling’, she said. ‘Me modelling, you must be kidding?’ She thought I would be a good candidate to model in a fashion show organised every year where cancer patients participte as models. But me?? Well, believe it or not I said yes. I guess I felt flattered. I hope they refuse my application.
I am on a quest to find a decent post-mastectomy bikini. Through a fellow blogger I found a website that has some nice stuff so I ordered one online. I hate buying clothes online, specially something like a bikini which is always so hard to chose, but I don’t have other alternatives. I am going on holidays in April and I need to get something by then. I hope my hair grows to a decent size before April otherwise I will have to swim in the sea showing my bald head. Not really looking forward to do that.
Talking about the frustration of not having hair, I need to renew my passport and I am not sure if I can take pictures wearing a scarf. I bought fake eyelashes (which actually look great), but there’s no way I can fake proper eyebrows.Wearing a wig without eyebrows looks weird. Taking the picture without a scarf is out of the question. And I am not very good with make-up and all that. Panic, panic! What shall I do?
* kisses and cuddles
But do you know who is more decrepit than me? Rod Stewart. I saw him shopping today, I was queuing to pay behind him and his wife (a very tall girl, taller than me and I am 180cm). His voice is unmistakable, and so is his hair. I thought it was cool to see him but he looks a bit passé.
Today I had a consultation with my radiotherapy oncologist and decided to ask if she had any tips on how to take care of my nails. She called the nurse, who called another nurse and before I knew it I had three people analysing my nails and giving me tips. Basically there’s not much I can do apart from cutting them as short as possible and avoiding using the tip of my fingers. They are doomed, condemn to death. And to make it worse, I was told that a nail may take six months to grow back. Will I ever look normal again?
During the consultation I also took the opportunity to mention something that has been worrying me for a while. I have been having some pain on my lower leg, a persistent annoying pain, similar to the bone pain I had during chemo. To give me some peace of mind she sent me to have an X-ray done. I brought the X-rays with me but unfortunately when I look at it all I can see is very straight normal looking bones. Luckily, the nurse called me in the afternoon to let me know it all looks absolutely fine, which is a relief. I have to relax and stop worrying about every single little ache.
My fighting mode seems to be off since Christmas. Everything seems heavier than before. I am sad more often and I worry all the time. I am aware of this and I am trying to reverse it. I started doing some yoga exercises at home with the help of a DVD someone gave me, I go to the gym more often, I have massages every week, I do fun stuff and I became a shopaholic. I admit, I buy just for the fun of buying. I discovered the therapeutic effects of shopping. How come no one thought of adding shopping to the list of complementary therapies? When I was working, and actually making some money, I had no time to go shopping and spend money, now I can spend hours in shops, it’s great. I never bought so many clothes as in these last two months. Most of it on sale so I only feel half-guilty but still... Do I need all these new clothes? Not really. Does it make me feel good? Oh yes it does.
While walking in the labyrinth of corridors of the clinic, one of the breast cancer nurses asked me if I would like to participate in a fund raising event. I said ‘Sure but what would that entail?’ ‘Modelling’, she said. ‘Me modelling, you must be kidding?’ She thought I would be a good candidate to model in a fashion show organised every year where cancer patients participte as models. But me?? Well, believe it or not I said yes. I guess I felt flattered. I hope they refuse my application.
I am on a quest to find a decent post-mastectomy bikini. Through a fellow blogger I found a website that has some nice stuff so I ordered one online. I hate buying clothes online, specially something like a bikini which is always so hard to chose, but I don’t have other alternatives. I am going on holidays in April and I need to get something by then. I hope my hair grows to a decent size before April otherwise I will have to swim in the sea showing my bald head. Not really looking forward to do that.
Talking about the frustration of not having hair, I need to renew my passport and I am not sure if I can take pictures wearing a scarf. I bought fake eyelashes (which actually look great), but there’s no way I can fake proper eyebrows.Wearing a wig without eyebrows looks weird. Taking the picture without a scarf is out of the question. And I am not very good with make-up and all that. Panic, panic! What shall I do?
* kisses and cuddles
24 January 2011
Just when I thought things were getting better
This morning, after showering, while cleaning my feet with the towel, one of my toe nails fell off. I thought I was going to faint and throw up, all at the same time. I got so dizzy I had to sit down and call S. to cover my toe with a plaster. I can stand blood and needles, look at wounds and scars, assist an autopsy without feeling sick, but nails... specially toe nails, not that!
Once I saw a man with six toes, he was wearing flip-flops and when I looked at his feet and realised he had six toes my stomach just turned inside out. I don’t know what my problem is with feet, toes and nails, but the truth is it really made me queasy.
The problem with loosing this nail is that now I know I will lose some more because I have other nails that look equally disgusting and ready to abandon me. I was convinced my hand nails were getting better but now I don’t know anymore, I am afraid they also will fall off, just to make me look even more like a cancer patient. They are yellow, curved and slightly detached from the flesh, very sexy!
More than six weeks after the last chemo, when things should be improving, my eyebrows are still fading away (eyelashes completely gone), there’s still no sign of proper hair growth and I am tired as never before. I thought that my Portuguese genes would guarantee a rapid and strong hair growth, I wouldn’t even mind getting a moustache if that meant I would get my thick hair back.
I am going to the podiatrist tomorrow and will show him my ‘nailess’ toe. My repugnant verruca is still having fun on my foot, enjoying my weakened immune system to grow. The things one has to put up with in life!
Once I saw a man with six toes, he was wearing flip-flops and when I looked at his feet and realised he had six toes my stomach just turned inside out. I don’t know what my problem is with feet, toes and nails, but the truth is it really made me queasy.
The problem with loosing this nail is that now I know I will lose some more because I have other nails that look equally disgusting and ready to abandon me. I was convinced my hand nails were getting better but now I don’t know anymore, I am afraid they also will fall off, just to make me look even more like a cancer patient. They are yellow, curved and slightly detached from the flesh, very sexy!
More than six weeks after the last chemo, when things should be improving, my eyebrows are still fading away (eyelashes completely gone), there’s still no sign of proper hair growth and I am tired as never before. I thought that my Portuguese genes would guarantee a rapid and strong hair growth, I wouldn’t even mind getting a moustache if that meant I would get my thick hair back.
I am going to the podiatrist tomorrow and will show him my ‘nailess’ toe. My repugnant verruca is still having fun on my foot, enjoying my weakened immune system to grow. The things one has to put up with in life!
07 January 2011
Some days are better than others
Today I am having a bad day. Maybe it’s because of the rain and grey sky, maybe not. I woke up feeling sad, with a knot in my throat, hating everything about my sick body. I hate the way I look, the fact that I always feel so tired and the constant discomfort caused by all kind of small annoying things like having very sensitive sore nails both in my hands and feet, having pain in both arms, either because of the phlebitis or the cording, having some digestive problems, being forgetful and confused at times, and having hot flashes and night sweats, a subject I have avoided writing about in here. For about two months now I have been having menopause symptoms, one of my most feared side effects of chemotherapy. My ovaries stopped working, maybe not permanently, that is what I am hoping for. I feel I am losing my femininity: lost a breast, lost all my hair, look tired and old, will most likely never become a mother and will never breast feed. I know some things are temporary like the hair loss and that the most important is to be alive and well. People can tell me this over and over again but I can’t get used to the idea that I am not the healthy person I thought I was before all this cancer thing happened. I want to live until I am 90 (or more!), healthy, happy and elegant. With all these worries I am going to get wrinkled, grey and turn into a grumpy old lady.
The problem with cancer is that there is no cure. Doctors remove the tumour and subject you to heavy treatments but there’s no guarantee they got rid of all cancer cells. I will have doctor’s appointments for the rest of my life. This week I asked my surgeon “Is my prognosis good?” to which he answered “yes, your prognosis is good but as you know no one has a crystal ball.” I guess I have to learn to live with it.
Now back to reality. I am going to the kitchen now, to make a chocolate cake for my sweet husband, it’s his birthday tomorrow. Nothing like baking while listening to music to cheer me up.
The problem with cancer is that there is no cure. Doctors remove the tumour and subject you to heavy treatments but there’s no guarantee they got rid of all cancer cells. I will have doctor’s appointments for the rest of my life. This week I asked my surgeon “Is my prognosis good?” to which he answered “yes, your prognosis is good but as you know no one has a crystal ball.” I guess I have to learn to live with it.
Now back to reality. I am going to the kitchen now, to make a chocolate cake for my sweet husband, it’s his birthday tomorrow. Nothing like baking while listening to music to cheer me up.
31 December 2010
2011 is going to be a better year
My body is detoxing and trying to readjust to a life without the chemo drugs. I wonder how long it will take to get back to normal, a month, six months, a year? My digestive tract is still a bit of a mess, my nails are very sore and yellow (I wonder if they are going to fall off or not and if yes, does it hurt? How will it look like? How long does it take to grow back?), my skin is so dry it seems it is going to crack at any moment, I have lost all my hair, except for 10 eyebrows and about 5 eyelashes (yes, I counted them!), which I am sure will abandon me in the coming days, making me look even more weird and sickish. I am so aware of the way I look now, I wish mirrors didn’t exist. Between chemo sessions some baby hair always grows on my head, weak, colourless and very scarce hair which looks nothing like my old hair. Now I look in the mirror every day hoping to see my dark strong hair growing back. I want to go back to work in January or February and I would prefer to go back without a scarf covering my head. I am tired beyond believe and so out of shape that yesterday I could hardly walk up the mountain to enjoy the view over Moledo. My muscles ache and my joints like to complain as well. I feel like an old lady.
During these days in Portugal I have been eating a lot more and haven’t been following my diet. I feel guilty and I must get back on the right track. But it is irresistible, there’re so many nice things, so many temptations, I just can’t resist. Of course I then suffer the consequences, like having indigestions, tummy pain, feeling tired and without energy, and sleeping badly.
I desperately need to start exercising regularly, but I just learned that I can’t swim during radiotherapy because the chloride may irritate the skin. I can’t practice any sport that makes me sweat too much either for the same reason. I can’t play badminton because my arm still hurts (the cording comes back from time to time) so I will try yoga, pilates or any other quiet sport.
Emotionally I feel good. I am a bit apprehensive about starting radiotherapy, fear of the unknown I guess, and anxious about reconstruction, with another surgery, another stay in the hospital. I can’t wait for all this to be over.
As soon as I get home I will hang the 2011 calendar in the kitchen and remove the 2010 one. The good thing about having a bad year is knowing that the following year can only be better.
What I had hoped for 2010 didn’t happen. I wanted to have a baby but instead I got cancer. Unfortunately the opposite doesn’t work, if I wish for cancer I will still not get a baby. So all I am going to wish for is that I have a calm year, actually I wouldn’t mind having a boring year, an eventless year.
I hope 2011 will be a good year not just for me, but for all of you as well. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
During these days in Portugal I have been eating a lot more and haven’t been following my diet. I feel guilty and I must get back on the right track. But it is irresistible, there’re so many nice things, so many temptations, I just can’t resist. Of course I then suffer the consequences, like having indigestions, tummy pain, feeling tired and without energy, and sleeping badly.
I desperately need to start exercising regularly, but I just learned that I can’t swim during radiotherapy because the chloride may irritate the skin. I can’t practice any sport that makes me sweat too much either for the same reason. I can’t play badminton because my arm still hurts (the cording comes back from time to time) so I will try yoga, pilates or any other quiet sport.
Emotionally I feel good. I am a bit apprehensive about starting radiotherapy, fear of the unknown I guess, and anxious about reconstruction, with another surgery, another stay in the hospital. I can’t wait for all this to be over.
As soon as I get home I will hang the 2011 calendar in the kitchen and remove the 2010 one. The good thing about having a bad year is knowing that the following year can only be better.
What I had hoped for 2010 didn’t happen. I wanted to have a baby but instead I got cancer. Unfortunately the opposite doesn’t work, if I wish for cancer I will still not get a baby. So all I am going to wish for is that I have a calm year, actually I wouldn’t mind having a boring year, an eventless year.
I hope 2011 will be a good year not just for me, but for all of you as well. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
11 December 2010
6 down.. and done with chemo. Hurray!
The day yesterday went by so quickly I hardly had time to enjoy the fact that it was my last chemotherapy treatment. S. and I arrived at the clinic early, I sat on my favourite chair and the nurses started the treatment right after. My friend J., with her always cheerful smile, came to keep us company and she brought me a box of Green & Blacks chocolates that I so desperately needed and really enjoyed (there goes my diet!). By noon I was done. S. and I had lunch and went to meet the oncologist at 1pm. We discussed the next steps: hormone therapy (tamoxifen) and radiotherapy, she went through the side effects and how to manage them. If all goes according to plan, next week I will meet the radiologist and start taking the tamoxifen.
As it was my last chemo and the nurses and all other staff have been so amazing, I wanted to give them something. One of the nurses had mentioned before that they always get bonbons and cakes, so I wanted to bring something different. I thought of an organic fruit basket, at least it would be healthy, but healthy is not fun. Instead I decided to make the Dutch Christmas cookies (speculaas and boterkoekjes) my mother has always made at home for Christmas. I spent two afternoons in the kitchen but it was worth it, they looked and tasted good. I hope they all enjoyed it too.
I brought a "souvenir" with me, the arm band I wore at the clinic.
From the clinic I also brought the usual goodie bag. Can't wait to stop filling my poor body with all these medicines.
I will only consider chemotherapy as finished once the side effects disappear, at least the most unpleasant and debilitating ones. Today, apart from not being able to sleep and feeling slightly nauseous, I am ok. Experience tells me that the worse will hit me on the 3rd day of the cycle.
Chemotherapy is horrible but I guess it is better than having cancer. Chemotherapy made me feel weak, exhausted beyond believe, nauseous, dizzy, emotionally drained, made me lose my hair, ruined my nails, gave me an itchy sore scalp, my skin got dry, gave me mouth ulcers and dry mouth, gave me watery eyes and a bleeding nose, gave me an annoying noise and a throbbing vein in my ear, gave me unpleasant headaches, gave me brown spots on my skin, gave me phlebitis, gave me terrible bone pain, muscle pain and joint pain, made me lose my concentration, gave me insomnias, made me lose my appetite, gave me heartburn, colic and indigestion, made me have severe constipation and severe diarrhoea, weakened my immune system and most probably damaged my ovaries leaving me infertile. Did I forget anything? However, even though the list is long, it is better than cancer!
My blood counts have been falling with each cycle. My white blood cell count and neutrophil count are quite low at the moment. I just hope they don't get any lower and that I don't get any infections or other complications. On the 19th of Dec. we are supposed to fly to Portugal to spend Christmas and New Year's there. And I really want to go, I've been looking forward to getting away and being with my family and friends for months.
I can't wait to go back to a more normal life, to my old life if possible. My head is full of plans for 2011, starting with a relaxed holiday somewhere, going to the gym more regularly, meeting people without being afraid of feeling sick just hours before leaving home, going back to work, being able to concentrate on anything for more than one minute and enjoying life in general.
I will be staring into the mirror every day checking for any signs of hair growth. Once I get enough hair to cover my scalp, I will stop wearing scarves and hats. I am curious if it will grow weak, curly and grey or just like my old dark brown, straight, strong hair. Can't wait to have my first haircut.
Today is exactly six months since my diagnosis. Not sure yet how I feel about it. Tired, I guess.
As it was my last chemo and the nurses and all other staff have been so amazing, I wanted to give them something. One of the nurses had mentioned before that they always get bonbons and cakes, so I wanted to bring something different. I thought of an organic fruit basket, at least it would be healthy, but healthy is not fun. Instead I decided to make the Dutch Christmas cookies (speculaas and boterkoekjes) my mother has always made at home for Christmas. I spent two afternoons in the kitchen but it was worth it, they looked and tasted good. I hope they all enjoyed it too.
I brought a "souvenir" with me, the arm band I wore at the clinic.
From the clinic I also brought the usual goodie bag. Can't wait to stop filling my poor body with all these medicines.
On my first chemo day, before treatment started my mother took me a picture. Yesterday, before my last chemo treatment started S. also took me a picture (already with the needle and the catheter sticking out of my blouse!).
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| 26 August 2010 The old me: still with thick brown hair, full eyebrows and eyelashes, healthy colour and energetic. |
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| 10 December 2010 The chemo me: no hair, barely any eyebrows and eyelashes and in need of some sun and rest. |
Chemotherapy is horrible but I guess it is better than having cancer. Chemotherapy made me feel weak, exhausted beyond believe, nauseous, dizzy, emotionally drained, made me lose my hair, ruined my nails, gave me an itchy sore scalp, my skin got dry, gave me mouth ulcers and dry mouth, gave me watery eyes and a bleeding nose, gave me an annoying noise and a throbbing vein in my ear, gave me unpleasant headaches, gave me brown spots on my skin, gave me phlebitis, gave me terrible bone pain, muscle pain and joint pain, made me lose my concentration, gave me insomnias, made me lose my appetite, gave me heartburn, colic and indigestion, made me have severe constipation and severe diarrhoea, weakened my immune system and most probably damaged my ovaries leaving me infertile. Did I forget anything? However, even though the list is long, it is better than cancer!
My blood counts have been falling with each cycle. My white blood cell count and neutrophil count are quite low at the moment. I just hope they don't get any lower and that I don't get any infections or other complications. On the 19th of Dec. we are supposed to fly to Portugal to spend Christmas and New Year's there. And I really want to go, I've been looking forward to getting away and being with my family and friends for months.
I can't wait to go back to a more normal life, to my old life if possible. My head is full of plans for 2011, starting with a relaxed holiday somewhere, going to the gym more regularly, meeting people without being afraid of feeling sick just hours before leaving home, going back to work, being able to concentrate on anything for more than one minute and enjoying life in general.
I will be staring into the mirror every day checking for any signs of hair growth. Once I get enough hair to cover my scalp, I will stop wearing scarves and hats. I am curious if it will grow weak, curly and grey or just like my old dark brown, straight, strong hair. Can't wait to have my first haircut.
Today is exactly six months since my diagnosis. Not sure yet how I feel about it. Tired, I guess.
07 December 2010
Help, my glass is almost empty!
I haven’t been much in the mood to write lately, mainly because I haven’t been feeling too well but also because there’s not much to report. In short, my sister C. was here for two weeks which was great and despite the bone pain and the snow we managed to do some nice things together, my internet connexion was down for almost a week and made me realise how much I need it, I had high temperature and got very worried (it ended up being nothing to worry about), I went to see the surgeon and all seems to be well, I fell down the stairs (I hate snow!) and got the biggest bruise I have ever seen in my life, it is the most painful bruise I have ever had too (not to mention the embarrassment of falling in front of strangers) and considering my platelet count, I wonder how long it will take to heal.
I am having a hard time with chemo. I try to ignore the side effects and have a life as normal as possible but the truth is I feel sick all the time and I am exhausted. I put all my energy into not having a meltdown, staying strong and focussing on simple daily activities. All I want is to feel good for at least one day. Since the last chemo session I have been feeling pretty bad, both physically and emotionally. The bone pain didn’t really go away this time, I have trouble sleeping, my whole digestive system is torturing me, my skin is full of brown spots, my eyes are red and tired (I barely have any eyelashes now, my eyes are irritated and tears fall down my face non-stop), my nails look miserable and are sore (are they going to fall?) and the noise in my ear is not getting any better. I hate the way I look and even though people keep telling me I don’t look that bad, I have difficulties recognizing my face in the mirror, it makes me very sad. I am exhausted and can’t sleep at night. I am worried all the time and there’s nothing that can help me relax. My body changed so much in the past six months and I am in such bad shape it makes me realise how healthy I was before.
This Friday I have my last chemo session but somehow I don’t feel happy about it. It’s hard to explain but having chemotherapy gives me the feeling I am fighting cancer. Once chemo is over I am afraid that if one stupid cancer cell managed to survive this horrible treatment, it will start multiplying and form a tumour somewhere else. Without chemotherapy it is like if I am not fighting anymore. I make an effort not to think about it but the fear of recurrence is always there. It will always be there. Every time I have an appointment with the surgeon or the oncologist I get extremely anxious. I am always afraid they will find something and have bad news to give me. When the surgeon checks my chest, tummy, glands and back I can’t stop thinking he might find something that shouldn’t be there. It is scary. What I find scary as well is starting a new treatment and changing my daily routine. Soon I will start radiotherapy and hormone therapy which is supposed to be a lot easier than chemotherapy. Looking on the bright side, my hair will start growing back, I will feel less sick, I might be able to go back to work, my short-term memory and ability to concentrate will return, my taste buds will go back to normal and most important of all I will stop poisoning my poor tired body. I dream with a detox holiday after all this is over. I want to clean my body from all these drugs and get back in shape. Maybe who knows even run a marathon! Hummm, now that I think of it, running a marathon is probably as traumatic as chemotherapy, I never liked running.
I look forward to the end of all this. I can’t wait to hear the words “you are cancer free”. Unfortunately for the next five years I will be in remission, not cancer free. A long wait still...
As I said, chemo is hard and I am glad it will soon be over. But it is very demoralising to know that until Friday morning I will be feeling relatively ok and then 12 hours later I will be feeling miserable, sick and in pain again. Until recently I thought I had a high pain threshold but since I experienced bone pain I think differently. For the first time I had to use the term unbearable pain and ask for stronger painkillers. Long live Tramadol!
All I can do lately is whine. I cry more and I smile less. Being a cancer patient is not easy but being around one is not a piece of cake either. I feel sorry for my husband, family and close friends, but I really appreciate all the support they have been giving me. Without them all this would be a lot harder.
I am having a hard time with chemo. I try to ignore the side effects and have a life as normal as possible but the truth is I feel sick all the time and I am exhausted. I put all my energy into not having a meltdown, staying strong and focussing on simple daily activities. All I want is to feel good for at least one day. Since the last chemo session I have been feeling pretty bad, both physically and emotionally. The bone pain didn’t really go away this time, I have trouble sleeping, my whole digestive system is torturing me, my skin is full of brown spots, my eyes are red and tired (I barely have any eyelashes now, my eyes are irritated and tears fall down my face non-stop), my nails look miserable and are sore (are they going to fall?) and the noise in my ear is not getting any better. I hate the way I look and even though people keep telling me I don’t look that bad, I have difficulties recognizing my face in the mirror, it makes me very sad. I am exhausted and can’t sleep at night. I am worried all the time and there’s nothing that can help me relax. My body changed so much in the past six months and I am in such bad shape it makes me realise how healthy I was before.
This Friday I have my last chemo session but somehow I don’t feel happy about it. It’s hard to explain but having chemotherapy gives me the feeling I am fighting cancer. Once chemo is over I am afraid that if one stupid cancer cell managed to survive this horrible treatment, it will start multiplying and form a tumour somewhere else. Without chemotherapy it is like if I am not fighting anymore. I make an effort not to think about it but the fear of recurrence is always there. It will always be there. Every time I have an appointment with the surgeon or the oncologist I get extremely anxious. I am always afraid they will find something and have bad news to give me. When the surgeon checks my chest, tummy, glands and back I can’t stop thinking he might find something that shouldn’t be there. It is scary. What I find scary as well is starting a new treatment and changing my daily routine. Soon I will start radiotherapy and hormone therapy which is supposed to be a lot easier than chemotherapy. Looking on the bright side, my hair will start growing back, I will feel less sick, I might be able to go back to work, my short-term memory and ability to concentrate will return, my taste buds will go back to normal and most important of all I will stop poisoning my poor tired body. I dream with a detox holiday after all this is over. I want to clean my body from all these drugs and get back in shape. Maybe who knows even run a marathon! Hummm, now that I think of it, running a marathon is probably as traumatic as chemotherapy, I never liked running.
I look forward to the end of all this. I can’t wait to hear the words “you are cancer free”. Unfortunately for the next five years I will be in remission, not cancer free. A long wait still...
As I said, chemo is hard and I am glad it will soon be over. But it is very demoralising to know that until Friday morning I will be feeling relatively ok and then 12 hours later I will be feeling miserable, sick and in pain again. Until recently I thought I had a high pain threshold but since I experienced bone pain I think differently. For the first time I had to use the term unbearable pain and ask for stronger painkillers. Long live Tramadol!
All I can do lately is whine. I cry more and I smile less. Being a cancer patient is not easy but being around one is not a piece of cake either. I feel sorry for my husband, family and close friends, but I really appreciate all the support they have been giving me. Without them all this would be a lot harder.
29 October 2010
4 down, 2 more to go
Chemotherapy: take 4
It feels a bit like groundhog day by now. I wake up after a bad night sleep, feeling anxious and slightly scared, get ready, take a cab and arrive at The Harley Street Clinic for one more consultation with my oncologist. She goes through all side effects and medication, talks to me about how to best manage the side effects and about the new drug I am taking now, Taxotere. She answers my questions, always in a very positive way, making me feel confident and calm. I then go to the chemotherapy day unit, where I choose my chair, the one on the corner, by the window. S. sits next to me, like always, keeping me company while reading and listening to the radio that is playing softly in the room. The nurses greet us in a very nice way as usual and once again they go through the side effects of the Taxotere and explain how my treatment is going to be that day.
The results of the blood tests done the previous day show that my blood counts are within acceptable limits, meaning that the treatment can go ahead as planned. The nurse gives me the anti-sickness pill one hour before treatment starts. He checks my temperature, blood pressure and weight. By the way I’ve put on 1,5 kilos since last treatment which is great because I wasn’t supposed to lose more than 5 kilos and I had already lost 6. The nurses were a bit concerned about my weight loss. With Taxotere I may put on weight because of the steroids I have to take, but hopefully I will manage to stay the same, I will for sure make an effort not to turn into a fat whale. My self-esteem is already at its worse, soon I will have to hide all the mirrors in the house.
The drug is administered via the port-a-cath that I have now on my chest. It is so much better this way, it is faster and less painful. The only pain I felt was when the needle was inserted, and then when it was removed. I wish I had the port since the first day. It is a bit weird though to have something underneath your skin, with a tube in your vein, but I try not to think about it much.
While the infusion is given, I read, chat a bit, and enjoy the reflexology. It is in general a very relaxing day, despite all the stress that comes with it.
In the meantime, the pharmacist comes along with the list of medication I have to take at home, and the usual big bag full of medicines plus the Neulasta injection that I dislike but learned to give to myself to avoid one more trip to the clinic. Once again, she explains what to take and when and answers my questions.
Before removing the needle, the nurse flushes the port-a-cath to ensure it is open and unobstructed.
By 1pm I was already at home, feeling tired and slightly sickish, but nothing too bad. I had a proper dinner and went early to bed.
Today I had a reasonably good day. I just feel extremely tired and slightly nauseous, nothing I am not used to by now. S. stayed at home to keep me company. Having someone around makes me feel calmer. And it is nice to have someone to re-fill my glass of water and give me little kisses.
With the Taxotere I may experience the following side effects:
•Low white blood cell count (increases risk of infections)
•Low red blood cell count (anaemia)
•Fluid retention with weight gain, swelling of the ankles or abdominal area (great, just what I needed, I will turn into a bald big fat whale!)
•Peripheral neuropathy (numbness in fingers and toes)
•Nausea
•Diarrhoea
•Mouth sores
•Hair loss (too late, almost all is gone by now!)
•Fatigue and weakness
•Nail changes (nails may fall off)
•Vomiting
•Muscle, bone and joint pain
•Low platelet count (increases risk of bleeding)
•Allergic reactions (rash, flushing, fever, lowered blood pressure)
•Infusion site reactions
It feels a bit like groundhog day by now. I wake up after a bad night sleep, feeling anxious and slightly scared, get ready, take a cab and arrive at The Harley Street Clinic for one more consultation with my oncologist. She goes through all side effects and medication, talks to me about how to best manage the side effects and about the new drug I am taking now, Taxotere. She answers my questions, always in a very positive way, making me feel confident and calm. I then go to the chemotherapy day unit, where I choose my chair, the one on the corner, by the window. S. sits next to me, like always, keeping me company while reading and listening to the radio that is playing softly in the room. The nurses greet us in a very nice way as usual and once again they go through the side effects of the Taxotere and explain how my treatment is going to be that day.
The results of the blood tests done the previous day show that my blood counts are within acceptable limits, meaning that the treatment can go ahead as planned. The nurse gives me the anti-sickness pill one hour before treatment starts. He checks my temperature, blood pressure and weight. By the way I’ve put on 1,5 kilos since last treatment which is great because I wasn’t supposed to lose more than 5 kilos and I had already lost 6. The nurses were a bit concerned about my weight loss. With Taxotere I may put on weight because of the steroids I have to take, but hopefully I will manage to stay the same, I will for sure make an effort not to turn into a fat whale. My self-esteem is already at its worse, soon I will have to hide all the mirrors in the house.
The drug is administered via the port-a-cath that I have now on my chest. It is so much better this way, it is faster and less painful. The only pain I felt was when the needle was inserted, and then when it was removed. I wish I had the port since the first day. It is a bit weird though to have something underneath your skin, with a tube in your vein, but I try not to think about it much.
While the infusion is given, I read, chat a bit, and enjoy the reflexology. It is in general a very relaxing day, despite all the stress that comes with it.
In the meantime, the pharmacist comes along with the list of medication I have to take at home, and the usual big bag full of medicines plus the Neulasta injection that I dislike but learned to give to myself to avoid one more trip to the clinic. Once again, she explains what to take and when and answers my questions.
Before removing the needle, the nurse flushes the port-a-cath to ensure it is open and unobstructed.
By 1pm I was already at home, feeling tired and slightly sickish, but nothing too bad. I had a proper dinner and went early to bed.
Today I had a reasonably good day. I just feel extremely tired and slightly nauseous, nothing I am not used to by now. S. stayed at home to keep me company. Having someone around makes me feel calmer. And it is nice to have someone to re-fill my glass of water and give me little kisses.
With the Taxotere I may experience the following side effects:
•Low white blood cell count (increases risk of infections)
•Low red blood cell count (anaemia)
•Fluid retention with weight gain, swelling of the ankles or abdominal area (great, just what I needed, I will turn into a bald big fat whale!)
•Peripheral neuropathy (numbness in fingers and toes)
•Nausea
•Diarrhoea
•Mouth sores
•Hair loss (too late, almost all is gone by now!)
•Fatigue and weakness
•Nail changes (nails may fall off)
•Vomiting
•Muscle, bone and joint pain
•Low platelet count (increases risk of bleeding)
•Allergic reactions (rash, flushing, fever, lowered blood pressure)
•Infusion site reactions
06 September 2010
Side effects
The side effects I am experiencing are quite mild, but all together rather unpleasant.
Before the chemo when the nurse was going through all possible side effects and how to manage them I started panicking and felt like crying. It sounded horrible and the only thing I could think was: what am I doing here? Why do I have to put myself through this? Fortunately I am one of the lucky ones, unless the side effects get worse after the next session.
The list of possible side effects is long and in some degree I am experiencing them all:
Reduced immunity (so far no infections)
Bruising and bleeding (no bleeding luckily)
Anaemia
Nausea
Tiredness (I should say fatigue or exhaustion)
Hair loss (none up until today and hopefully none what so ever until the end)
Sore mouth
Taste changes
Irritation of the bladder
Loss of appetite
Skin changes
Nail changes
Throbbing ear pain
Heartburn
Headaches
Damage to heart (I hope none)
Infertility (very likely but hard to know yet)
Constipation and diarrhoea (not at the same time obviously!)
Bone pain
Before the chemo when the nurse was going through all possible side effects and how to manage them I started panicking and felt like crying. It sounded horrible and the only thing I could think was: what am I doing here? Why do I have to put myself through this? Fortunately I am one of the lucky ones, unless the side effects get worse after the next session.
The list of possible side effects is long and in some degree I am experiencing them all:
Reduced immunity (so far no infections)
Bruising and bleeding (no bleeding luckily)
Anaemia
Nausea
Tiredness (I should say fatigue or exhaustion)
Hair loss (none up until today and hopefully none what so ever until the end)
Sore mouth
Taste changes
Irritation of the bladder
Loss of appetite
Skin changes
Nail changes
Throbbing ear pain
Heartburn
Headaches
Damage to heart (I hope none)
Infertility (very likely but hard to know yet)
Constipation and diarrhoea (not at the same time obviously!)
Bone pain
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