I can’t get over the ‘why me’ phase. Every day I ask myself what could I have done differently. I can’t change the past but maybe I can try to influence my future.
What are the downsides of eating well, exercising more, and reducing stress? None, right? So why don’t we all do that? I always thought I lead a healthy life, but apparently I have exposed my body to some cancer causing chemicals or other factors that made me develop cancer. I will never know what caused my cancer, maybe it was the polluted air in London, the fact that I didn’t manage to have any children (although I tired), or because I took the pill for so many years. Was it because I didn’t eat organic, or because I had a stressful life? Was it because I am tall? A woman? White? Apart from nutrition and fitness, all the rest seems pretty much out of my control. Should I have exercised more, eaten less or healthier? I was never fat, I always exercised, I cook at home and don’t eat processed food, I eat plenty of fruit and vegetables and never had any health problems before. In fact, I never realised how healthy I was, how fit I was and how happy I was, until this happened.
If our body knows how to fight cancer, I am determined to help it with a better diet, exercise, less stress and less exposure to carcinogens. By doing this I will not only feel like I am in control, I will increase my chances of leaving longer cancer free.
Doctors don’t tell patients to exercise more, be thin, eat healthy, avoid carcinogens and reduce stress to build natural defences against cancer. All is focussed on early detection and treatments, not prevention. This is wrong.
I read somewhere that breast cancer incidence has increased by more than 50% over the last 25 years. This is quite alarming because, although treatments have improved significantly and the survival rates have increased, not much seems to have been done to prevent it from happening in the first place.
I don’t think it is random luck (or lack of it!), it is the environment we live in, the modern life-style we lead, that are disrupting our hormone balances. The chemicals we breathe, eat and drink are acting as carcinogens.
Presently my biggest fear is to have recurrent or secondary cancer and I want to make sure I do what I can to stay healthy for the rest of my life but it is very hard to do so when I don’t know what exactly made me have breast cancer in the first place.
Pesticides, plastics, the pill, stress, etc are all hormone disruptors that can mimic the role of oestrogen and stimulate the growth of hormone sensitive cancer (like mine). It hasn’t necessarily been proven that oestrogen can cause breast cancer, but high levels of oestrogen can stimulate the growth of the cancer cells. That is exactly what Tamoxifen is supposed to do: block oestrogen receptors.
Having an oestrogen receptive cancer is in a way good, it means that there is an extra treatment available, Tamoxifen, which is proven to be effective. However, although Tamoxifen may increase my life expectancy, it definitely decreases my quality of life. I have been taking it for about two months now and the side effects are just getting worse and worse. A good night sleep is something I don’t know the meaning of anymore and having menopause symptoms at my age makes me feel old, too old. Having hot flashes during hot weather is just horrible. I have many techniques to make it more bearable, such as having two glasses of ice on my desk at work, that I can hold whenever I feel a hot flash coming; I have a Chillow which I definitely recommend, it helps me cool down during the many night sweats I have each night; I sleep with a very light duvet and the window open when possible, I dress in layers and only cotton and I take sage capsules. Unfortunately I can’t take Black Cohosh, Agnus Castus or any of those herbs, because it may interfere with the Tamoxifen and may increase my oestrogen levels.
Why is our body so complicated?
Call me paranoid, but I started using glass containers instead of plastic, I try to use only BPA free plastic, I rarely eat canned food (apart from the odd bean or tuna can), I use organic beauty products without parabens, I eat organic, I avoid dairy products and red meat, and I eat as much antiangiogenic foods as I can (antiangiogenics stop the growth of tumours and progression of cancers by limiting the formation of new blood vessels). Some examples of these foods are strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, oranges, grapefruit, lemons, apples, pineapples, cherries, parsley, garlic, nutmeg, turmeric, tomatoes, pumpkin, green tea, kale and dark chocolate.
I went from not wanting to read anything related to cancer to reading everything I can about it. There’s a lot of contradictory information available, and not enough or inconclusive studies available, this makes it a lot more complicated. What I try to do is to find guidance that makes sense to me, that seems logical and harmless.
But sometimes I think that reducing risks means nothing because I know a lot of people who live under constant stress, smoke, drink, don’t eat anything fresh, organic or unprocessed, are overweight and don’t exercise and never got cancer.
Showing posts with label Side effects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Side effects. Show all posts
11 April 2011
31 March 2011
Life after cancer treatments
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.
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.
24 March 2011
Working against me
Going back to work has been a lot harder than I thought. I can't concentrate, I feel exhausted, anxious and insecure. The first week was ok, I was acclimatising. The second week was a nightmare, I felt less than the others, observed, slow and incapable of performing. I burst into tears every night and I couldn't even explain exactly why. I was so convinced that going back to work would shut the cancer door and open the normal life door, but things are not that easy, are they? I carry a heavy load on my shoulders everywhere I go and I don't seem to be able to let go. This week I gained courage and I asked to continue working reduced hours for a couple of more weeks. I'm letting myself down, I'm angry and I really wish things were different.
One thing I promised myself when I learned I had cancer was that I wouldn't get a depression. It's bad enough as it is, the last thing I need is to have to deal with a depression. But I can see it coming: lethargy, insomnia, irritability, sadness, crying, unable to have fun, lack of initiative. I can't let that happen, I don't want to look back one day and see wasted time. Today I went to see the psychologist who thinks I am not depressed, just being too hard on myself. She gave me a couple of tasks I have to put in practice during the next week, let's see if I manage to do it. One thing she said stayed on my mind: do what you feel like doing and not what you think you should be doing. Do what gives you pleasure, not what you think you should be doing. The problem is, I don't know anymore what I enjoy doing and most of the times I don't feel like doing anything, talking to anyone or going anywhere. All I want is for things to be like they were before. Nothing else.
One thing I promised myself when I learned I had cancer was that I wouldn't get a depression. It's bad enough as it is, the last thing I need is to have to deal with a depression. But I can see it coming: lethargy, insomnia, irritability, sadness, crying, unable to have fun, lack of initiative. I can't let that happen, I don't want to look back one day and see wasted time. Today I went to see the psychologist who thinks I am not depressed, just being too hard on myself. She gave me a couple of tasks I have to put in practice during the next week, let's see if I manage to do it. One thing she said stayed on my mind: do what you feel like doing and not what you think you should be doing. Do what gives you pleasure, not what you think you should be doing. The problem is, I don't know anymore what I enjoy doing and most of the times I don't feel like doing anything, talking to anyone or going anywhere. All I want is for things to be like they were before. Nothing else.
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.
03 March 2011
Changing focus
Lately I’ve been experiencing what feels like the worst PMS of my life. One minute I think everyone around me is great, the next minute I realise how annoying people can be and I don’t just get irritated, I scare people by turning blue and blowing up, not without first saying a couple of nasty things. Even I know this is irrational, but it is totally out of my control, really, it is. I have to first count until ten before opening my mouth these days. It feels at times as if my body and mind are not my own. The worse part of the treatments have ended, the prognosis is good, spring is coming (soon I hope!) and life goes on. An action plan is needed. So, let’s be rational:
Problem: tired body and exhausted mind, crazy hormones, loss of self-esteem, pains and aches
Cause: cancer and treatments
Solution: change focus, rest, exercise, eat well, have fun and take pain killers
After almost nine months of focussing on cancer and my health, I am now ready to change focus and start living a more normal life. It is going to be hard, at least for now because there are still so many reminders - aches and pains, annoyances, my physical appearance, worries, doctor’s appointments, etc - that don’t let me forget what I’ve been through, but I want to stop thinking of myself as a cancer patient and enjoy life as before. “As before” and “normal life” will now have to be readjusted to a new reality. Nothing will be like before, I know, but I have to find a new “normal” and get on with life.
Problem: tired body and exhausted mind, crazy hormones, loss of self-esteem, pains and aches
Cause: cancer and treatments
Solution: change focus, rest, exercise, eat well, have fun and take pain killers
After almost nine months of focussing on cancer and my health, I am now ready to change focus and start living a more normal life. It is going to be hard, at least for now because there are still so many reminders - aches and pains, annoyances, my physical appearance, worries, doctor’s appointments, etc - that don’t let me forget what I’ve been through, but I want to stop thinking of myself as a cancer patient and enjoy life as before. “As before” and “normal life” will now have to be readjusted to a new reality. Nothing will be like before, I know, but I have to find a new “normal” and get on with life.
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.
18 February 2011
What’s next?
Today I had my last radiotherapy treatment. I feel relieved and happy. Now my skin can start healing and I don’t need to go to the clinic everyday anymore.
The next step is the hormone therapy, I have to take Tamoxifen for about 1825 days, that’s a long time! And once again, there are undesirable side effects such as hair loss (great, just what I needed!) and cancer (yes, I’m not kidding, Tamoxifen is a carcinogen). Hopefully I will suffer mild or no side effects at all. We will see. I can’t hide I am anxious about it. I would like to be able to say the treatments are over, but not yet, I have five more years to go with many doctor’s appointments and check-ups in between.
Once you are diagnosed with cancer every doctor’s appointment is like a trip down a rollercoaster that you don’t want to be on: has it come back? Is it cancer again? I talk to people about this but they don’t know what it is like. I have at least one doctor’s appointment per week and I start getting nervous the day before and totally unable to sleep the night before. If you have/had cancer you get it, if you don’t have cancer you don’t get it. It is a fear beyond my control. Every pain in any part of my body, every unusual thing, can be cancer again. It is hard to live with this uncertainty but since the beginning I have decided I am not going to waste years of my life being unhappy about it. Life goes on.
I’ve been having unpleasant leg pain and even after having X-rays done that showed everything is ok I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. This week I started having a sharp pain on my chest, and again I thought, oh my god it is back. I know it is irrational but I also know it is natural to feel like this. The chest pain was caused by the radiotherapy, some inflammation of a cartilage, nothing else.
I have two recurrent dreams, one where the doctor tells me this has all been a mistake and that I never had cancer and another where I am told they have found a cure. I wake up and I have to face that not only there’s no cure but they don’t even know the cause.
I have a lot of techniques to deal with my emotions and I have to say they have worked very well for me so far. I am also lucky to have so many amazing people around me that make sure I am well. Alone I wouldn’t have made it.
I hope I can find some peace of mind and be able to have a relaxed life despite all this. I think I will.
The next step is the hormone therapy, I have to take Tamoxifen for about 1825 days, that’s a long time! And once again, there are undesirable side effects such as hair loss (great, just what I needed!) and cancer (yes, I’m not kidding, Tamoxifen is a carcinogen). Hopefully I will suffer mild or no side effects at all. We will see. I can’t hide I am anxious about it. I would like to be able to say the treatments are over, but not yet, I have five more years to go with many doctor’s appointments and check-ups in between.
Once you are diagnosed with cancer every doctor’s appointment is like a trip down a rollercoaster that you don’t want to be on: has it come back? Is it cancer again? I talk to people about this but they don’t know what it is like. I have at least one doctor’s appointment per week and I start getting nervous the day before and totally unable to sleep the night before. If you have/had cancer you get it, if you don’t have cancer you don’t get it. It is a fear beyond my control. Every pain in any part of my body, every unusual thing, can be cancer again. It is hard to live with this uncertainty but since the beginning I have decided I am not going to waste years of my life being unhappy about it. Life goes on.
I’ve been having unpleasant leg pain and even after having X-rays done that showed everything is ok I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. This week I started having a sharp pain on my chest, and again I thought, oh my god it is back. I know it is irrational but I also know it is natural to feel like this. The chest pain was caused by the radiotherapy, some inflammation of a cartilage, nothing else.
I have two recurrent dreams, one where the doctor tells me this has all been a mistake and that I never had cancer and another where I am told they have found a cure. I wake up and I have to face that not only there’s no cure but they don’t even know the cause.
I have a lot of techniques to deal with my emotions and I have to say they have worked very well for me so far. I am also lucky to have so many amazing people around me that make sure I am well. Alone I wouldn’t have made it.
I hope I can find some peace of mind and be able to have a relaxed life despite all this. I think I will.
17 February 2011
Top 10 news of my week
1. The last few remaining eyebrows fell out but the next day I woke up with a vigorous bush of new eyebrows growing. Fantastic! It’s still less than a millimetre long, but it looks great. I miss my dark thick eyebrows.
2. I lost all eyelashes some time ago and just like my eyebrows, the eyelashes are growing strong, very uneven and very slow, but they are there.
3. Ten weeks after the last chemo, the hair on my head is still very weak, scarce and ugly, but it seems to be growing a bit everywhere now. I’m not jumping of happiness yet but I stopped panicking, there’s hope!
4. After a long, stressful and frustrating search, I finally found a really nice bikini, it is pretty and it makes me look perfectly “normal”. It doesn’t cover the chest port, the bump stands out a bit, but I can live with that. I can’t wait to go on holidays now.
5. I started exercising with a personal trainer who has been helping me regain strength in my arms, correct posture, and build some muscle. It’s great and I feel very motivated. I am aware that it will take several months before I recover completely but I am on the right path.
6. J. started working this week and I miss her company already. I've been so lucky to have here, she's been my guardian angel.
7. Tomorrow is my last radiotherapy session. The end. Time to celebrate. And to celebrate, recharge and get some miminhos from my family, Saturday I am going to Portugal. My mother’s sofa is the best place in the world to rest, nap and be lazy. After Portugal S. and I are going to pamper ourselves in a spa.
8. According to my acupuncturist my Qi is imbalanced (I’m not surprised, I actually think everything about my body is deficient at the moment), and to balance my Qi and help me sleep better I started taking some Chinese herbs.
9. I’ve been eating like a pig and I’m putting on weight faster than I lost during chemo. Urgent action required, bald whales are not attractive!
10. I am preparing myself to get back to work. It’s been eight months and I wonder if I still remember where my desk is...
2. I lost all eyelashes some time ago and just like my eyebrows, the eyelashes are growing strong, very uneven and very slow, but they are there.
3. Ten weeks after the last chemo, the hair on my head is still very weak, scarce and ugly, but it seems to be growing a bit everywhere now. I’m not jumping of happiness yet but I stopped panicking, there’s hope!
4. After a long, stressful and frustrating search, I finally found a really nice bikini, it is pretty and it makes me look perfectly “normal”. It doesn’t cover the chest port, the bump stands out a bit, but I can live with that. I can’t wait to go on holidays now.
5. I started exercising with a personal trainer who has been helping me regain strength in my arms, correct posture, and build some muscle. It’s great and I feel very motivated. I am aware that it will take several months before I recover completely but I am on the right path.
6. J. started working this week and I miss her company already. I've been so lucky to have here, she's been my guardian angel.
7. Tomorrow is my last radiotherapy session. The end. Time to celebrate. And to celebrate, recharge and get some miminhos from my family, Saturday I am going to Portugal. My mother’s sofa is the best place in the world to rest, nap and be lazy. After Portugal S. and I are going to pamper ourselves in a spa.
8. According to my acupuncturist my Qi is imbalanced (I’m not surprised, I actually think everything about my body is deficient at the moment), and to balance my Qi and help me sleep better I started taking some Chinese herbs.
9. I’ve been eating like a pig and I’m putting on weight faster than I lost during chemo. Urgent action required, bald whales are not attractive!
10. I am preparing myself to get back to work. It’s been eight months and I wonder if I still remember where my desk is...
02 February 2011
Halfway through
Oh, time flies when you're having fun!
To celebrate, the radiotherapists told me I would have another X-ray taken today, to check if the positioning is still correct. Sure, beam me some more. All I had to do was lay there a bit longer while Mr. Beamer (the gigantic machine) took the X-ray before treatment started. Everything seems to be going according to plan. Nice to know.
How were these last two and half weeks? I have a mild skin burn, a perfectly formed brownish rectangle, which doesn't hurt or itch. I have had breakfast in all of Marylebone High Street cafes', while reading the paper. I've been to more exhibitions than I can remember now. I did lots of shopping. I've been to the gym, although still exercising like an old lady; I still feel very tired from the chemo, or maybe, should I say, already tired from the radio. I've been happily busy and hardly noticed these weeks going by.
My days of freedom are coming to an end and soon I'll be going back to work. Hurray, a normal life, finally.
To celebrate, the radiotherapists told me I would have another X-ray taken today, to check if the positioning is still correct. Sure, beam me some more. All I had to do was lay there a bit longer while Mr. Beamer (the gigantic machine) took the X-ray before treatment started. Everything seems to be going according to plan. Nice to know.
How were these last two and half weeks? I have a mild skin burn, a perfectly formed brownish rectangle, which doesn't hurt or itch. I have had breakfast in all of Marylebone High Street cafes', while reading the paper. I've been to more exhibitions than I can remember now. I did lots of shopping. I've been to the gym, although still exercising like an old lady; I still feel very tired from the chemo, or maybe, should I say, already tired from the radio. I've been happily busy and hardly noticed these weeks going by.
My days of freedom are coming to an end and soon I'll be going back to work. Hurray, a normal life, finally.
01 February 2011
Having a no hair day
Seven and a half weeks after my last chemo and I still have no real hair, just some ugly fluff. And no signs of eyelashes or eyebrows yet. I try not to worry but I am very anxious. I WANT MY HAIR BACK! NOW!
To make things worse, I have to renew my passport this month and the Portuguese consulate was very helpful (I am not being ironic here, they were helpful for once) in informing me yesterday (one day before my appointment) that I could not take the photos wearing a scarf, except if worn for religious reasons, which is not my case. Or I could go au naturel. No way, I don’t want to see my bald head on my passport for the next ten years! Against my will and feeling very self-conscious, I wore my wig for the first time today. Regan went out for the first time, after being in a box for the past 5 months.
There was I, taking pictures at the consulate, feeling stupid and knowing that I will carry a passport that will remind me of my chemo days even when I am on holidays, far away trying to forget it all.
Not nice. I hate chemo.
To make things worse, I have to renew my passport this month and the Portuguese consulate was very helpful (I am not being ironic here, they were helpful for once) in informing me yesterday (one day before my appointment) that I could not take the photos wearing a scarf, except if worn for religious reasons, which is not my case. Or I could go au naturel. No way, I don’t want to see my bald head on my passport for the next ten years! Against my will and feeling very self-conscious, I wore my wig for the first time today. Regan went out for the first time, after being in a box for the past 5 months.
There was I, taking pictures at the consulate, feeling stupid and knowing that I will carry a passport that will remind me of my chemo days even when I am on holidays, far away trying to forget it all.
Not nice. I hate chemo.
27 January 2011
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!
21 January 2011
Wishful thinking
Today I dreamt I had hair, I had long luscious locks. The dream was so real I could feel my fingers running through the hair. In my dream I was in the shower shampooing my long hair... So cruel! When I woke up reality seemed a nightmare.
The truth is, six weeks after my last chemo, I still only have very few fine fuzzy baby hair. I am always so naïf, I always expect the best and was convinced that by now I would already have thick stubble all over my head. I was wrong.
Having to accept the fact that I will not be able to walk around without a scarf so soon, I decided I had to buy more scarves. And so I did. I went shopping and bought some colourful and flowery ones, different shapes and styles.
Still on the hair front, I have lost all my eyelashes - I look really funny, it makes me look very different – and my eyebrows look ridiculous, there are only 10 left, literally, and I wonder if I should just pluck them off.
Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and wake up when all this is over.
The truth is, six weeks after my last chemo, I still only have very few fine fuzzy baby hair. I am always so naïf, I always expect the best and was convinced that by now I would already have thick stubble all over my head. I was wrong.
Having to accept the fact that I will not be able to walk around without a scarf so soon, I decided I had to buy more scarves. And so I did. I went shopping and bought some colourful and flowery ones, different shapes and styles.
Still on the hair front, I have lost all my eyelashes - I look really funny, it makes me look very different – and my eyebrows look ridiculous, there are only 10 left, literally, and I wonder if I should just pluck them off.
Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep and wake up when all this is over.
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!
18 December 2010
I had enough
Lately I’ve been feeling a bit like a human needle cushion. I never really had any problems with needles, I don’t get impressed, dizzy or feel much pain, but I got to a point now where I cannot stand them anymore. This year I’ve had more needles inserted in my body than in my whole life.
It all began with the blood tests, biopsies and MRI’s (yes, there’s a needle involved here too, an injection of a contrast agent into the bloodstream). Then there were the surgeries and anaesthesias, five this year alone. And let’s not forget the daily injections of fertility drugs, actually twice a day, I had to administer for two weeks. Chemo, of course, was the last drop, with countless blood tests, injections and intravenous treatments. During chemo my poor veins refused to cooperate any longer, my left arm felt like a junky’s arm, and I am so glad I have a port now, it makes things so much easier, faster and painless. In fact, the port looks a bit like an actual needle cushion and it can be used for drawing blood and administering drugs. Although it is very practical, it means some extra needle pricks as it requires some maintenance. It has to be flushed regularly to prevent clotting and occlusion.
Now on top of having blood drawn almost every week, I started having acupuncture to try to relieve some of the side effects of chemotherapy. Great, more needles! I don't know what crossed my mind, I should instead stay quietly at home healing and resting.
I don’t have a needle phobia yet but I don’t wish to see a needle, syringe, blood, infusion bag or catheter in the next couple of weeks (I would like to say months but I know it is unrealistic!).
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.
02 December 2010
My first acupuncture treatment
I have always wanted to try acupuncture and was really pleased when my health insurance confirmed I was covered in full.
With each chemotherapy session I have been feeling worse and worse and I am running out of energy and patience to deal with the side effects. I love massages, it really relaxes me and makes me feel good but unfortunately a good massage in a decent place is quite expensive and it is not covered by the insurance. It is a shame massages are not considered complementary therapy. I was looking for something that could help improve my general wellbeing and after some recommendations and some consideration, I’ve decided to make my first appointment with an acupuncturist. The first appointment was last Thursday and I will be going there once a week.
I don’t expect miracles but I am hoping it will help lessen the annoying noise in my ear caused by the throbbing vein and relieve the nausea, headaches, pain, insomnia and fatigue. As I don’t have high expectations, any benefit will be a very positive outcome. In fact, right after the first session, the throbbing vein was no longer there. It was back the next day but even a short-term benefit is welcome.
The session started with a questionnaire about my medical condition, diet, emotional state and sleeping pattern. She checked my pulse and the colour and coating of my tongue and explained me how the treatment was going to be like. The atmosphere was very relaxing and friendly. I then laid down and she inserted needles on my feet, ankles and lower legs, hands, wrists and lower arms and head. It didn’t hurt at all, I just felt a light tingling. She left the room for about five to ten minutes, leaving me to relax. And it really was very relaxing to lay there in silence. When she returned she gave me a pressure point massage on my neck and shoulders, which was simply amazing. I loved it and I believe it helped me feeling relaxed.
I don’t know much about acupuncture and I think I am going to buy a book about it to understand better how it works.
During the acupuncture session I had fun imagining a voodoo doll not of myself but of cancer, almost like if it was possible to personify cancer, turning it into a doll and sticking some needles into it, not to treat but to kill.
I know acupuncture will not end the pain, nausea, fatigue, etc but I liked the way I felt afterwards: relaxed. Feeling relaxed is a luxury for me. Since this cancer era started, only in very few occasions I felt relaxed and good. If stress in a risk factor for cancer, I think we can say that cancer itself is cancerigenous and since I have never had so much stress in my life like now, I am exposing myself to an undesired risk. If I can learn how to deal with stress and start relaxing more, I am sure it will only do me good.
With each chemotherapy session I have been feeling worse and worse and I am running out of energy and patience to deal with the side effects. I love massages, it really relaxes me and makes me feel good but unfortunately a good massage in a decent place is quite expensive and it is not covered by the insurance. It is a shame massages are not considered complementary therapy. I was looking for something that could help improve my general wellbeing and after some recommendations and some consideration, I’ve decided to make my first appointment with an acupuncturist. The first appointment was last Thursday and I will be going there once a week.
I don’t expect miracles but I am hoping it will help lessen the annoying noise in my ear caused by the throbbing vein and relieve the nausea, headaches, pain, insomnia and fatigue. As I don’t have high expectations, any benefit will be a very positive outcome. In fact, right after the first session, the throbbing vein was no longer there. It was back the next day but even a short-term benefit is welcome.
The session started with a questionnaire about my medical condition, diet, emotional state and sleeping pattern. She checked my pulse and the colour and coating of my tongue and explained me how the treatment was going to be like. The atmosphere was very relaxing and friendly. I then laid down and she inserted needles on my feet, ankles and lower legs, hands, wrists and lower arms and head. It didn’t hurt at all, I just felt a light tingling. She left the room for about five to ten minutes, leaving me to relax. And it really was very relaxing to lay there in silence. When she returned she gave me a pressure point massage on my neck and shoulders, which was simply amazing. I loved it and I believe it helped me feeling relaxed.
I don’t know much about acupuncture and I think I am going to buy a book about it to understand better how it works.
During the acupuncture session I had fun imagining a voodoo doll not of myself but of cancer, almost like if it was possible to personify cancer, turning it into a doll and sticking some needles into it, not to treat but to kill.
I know acupuncture will not end the pain, nausea, fatigue, etc but I liked the way I felt afterwards: relaxed. Feeling relaxed is a luxury for me. Since this cancer era started, only in very few occasions I felt relaxed and good. If stress in a risk factor for cancer, I think we can say that cancer itself is cancerigenous and since I have never had so much stress in my life like now, I am exposing myself to an undesired risk. If I can learn how to deal with stress and start relaxing more, I am sure it will only do me good.
28 November 2010
Going through chemotherapy is anything but glamorous
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.
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.
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