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.

5 down, 1 more to go

In general it was a chemo session like all the others. The highlight was my friend J.’s visit, which I loved and really appreciated, although my state of stress and anxiety probably didn’t make me the best company in the world yesterday. I wasn’t very chatty. I don’t know why I let myself get so down every time I have chemo. I should be stronger than that. It must be knowing what comes with it: pain, nausea, discomfort, fatigue, fear, worries, hair loss, nose bleeds, headaches, etc.

I normally have chemo on Thursdays, which is a quiet day at the Chemotherapy Day Unit, but this week I had it on Friday, apparently the busiest day there. It was noisy with all the machines beeping at the same time and people constantly walking around and chatting. It made me really tired. I was glad when it was over. As I was feeling relieved to be out of there and still feeling strong, S. and I decided to go for a scone at Le Pain Quotidien and to a furniture shop where we bought a lamp before heading home.

Today I feel ok, just very tired.

One thing is bothering me though, the blood tests show that I am slightly anaemic and I was advised to eat more red meat and other food rich in iron. I hope the levels don’t get any lower otherwise I will be one step closer to getting a blood transfusion. Not really what I need right now.

Have to go, there’s a delicious iron-rich dinner prepared by my beloved husband waiting for me.

Chemo day

Here I am, feeling miserable and sorry for myself. I hardly slept and feel very anxious.

The only thing I can think of is swear words and expressions, in Portuguese which is still my favourite language to swear. I am actually quite amazed at the length of the list of swear words I could put together, but to avoid having to affix a warning such as “Parental Advisory, Explicit Content” I will instead post this: @#*~~ÄßhNDML~Ú!$*@”.

One thing I have to mention is that I had a lovely day yesterday. It was so nice I even forgot about the fact that yesterday the nurse could not find a cooperative vein for the pre-chemo tests and only after four attempts and fiddling around with the needdle for a couple of minutes, which by the way didn't hurt but made me turn pale almost green, she decided to draw the blood sample from the portacath. Wise decision. My veins collapsed completely. As I was stressing a little bit too much these last few days, S. took the day off yesterday and we spent the day together doing only nice stuff: we had a delicious lunch, went to a nice exhibition, had a very tasty dinner and then went to a nice modern dance performance at Sadler's Wells with J., who had the great idea of inviting us to join her. Merci à tous les deux.

Il était une fois... la vie

Do you remember this cartoon? I used to watch it when I was little and I loved it.
I hope Professor Globo and the Police Force are ready for the hard work that is coming... chemo is already this Friday :(

Quantitative Easing Explained by Furry Animals

This is quite a good lesson in the American economic crisis.
A bit monotone but some good humour in here... worth watching until the end.

Fela!

Fela Kuti was an interesting and controversial man. He was a multi-instrumentalist musician, composer, dancer, founder of Afro-beat, protest singer, revolutionary, political activist, polygamist and dope smoker. He founded a commune called the Kalakuta Republic and declared independence from the repressive Nigerian state, and began his own political party: MOP - Movement of the People. For his outspoken criticism of the government and military he was harassed, beaten, tortured and jailed. But above all he was a great musician.

It was with this in mind that I went to see the show Fela!, a Broadway musical. I don’t normally like musicals and this one was no exception. The story was lost and hard to follow and the music was not as powerful as it should have been. The choreography and dancers were great and I liked the fact that the stage was made to look like his Shrine, with the actors dancing on stage and through the aisles, as the stage extended throughout the seats. The actor playing Fela tried to give a dance lesson but honestly, the majority of the audience was white and white men’s hips cannot move like the African booties. I was disappointed because I thought I was going to enjoy an amazing musical event and it ended up being a boring very American show.

Hopefully next week’s concert of Fela Kuti’s son, Femi Kuti, will be a lot better.

Buddha Collapsed Out of Shame

A film by Hana Makhmalbaf who was only 19 years old when she wrote and directed it (Iran 2007). It is an unsentimental film with some disturbing scenes about a little girl determined to go to school. She is heartbreaking. When the film ended I was not sure if I was full of hope or desperate. Worth seeing.