I’ve been cleared for tomorrow’s chemo. I should feel excited or grateful or something, but I just feel pretty anxious. This is the final round. PHEW. I feel anxious knowing what I’m walking into, yet trying to remind myself that the meds they gave me last time worked wonders and I have no reason to think that that won't also be true tomorrow too. During Round 1 I thought I was “great” and it wasn’t til I was done taking the meds did I realize I couldn’t remember anything from the week. Except for ordering thinly sliced ham at the deli counter at Whole Foods?? I was really craving a ham sandwich... So let this be a warning, don’t hold me accountable for anything for the next 7 days. If we talk, I probably won’t remember. If I don’t text back, don’t take it personal. If I overzealously commit to anything, chances are you’ll need to ask me again next week😂Maybe next Monday, we can recap the week prior and you can tell me how it went?! But seriously, please hold hope alongside me that the week goes as seamless as the Round 1 when I really only had a terrible day 6. I keep reminding myself that this is the last time and when I’m 3 weeks out of Round 2 (like today), I’ll be done!! My largest hesitation next week is my diet. I successfully maintained my weight this week entirely on liquids. It’s was HARD. But, I think I found a groove and am hoping to maintain weight as long as possible. But with chemo in the mix and my mind not as clear, that will mean lots of planning and help at home. Fingers crossed. My goal is to not lose more than 10 pounds during treatment. So far, I’ve only lost 2. I’m proud of me. That’s pretty darn good. And I keep envisioning all the delicious meals next month...or the month after when I’m able to eat normally again. Fun fact: radiation affects my salivary glands (amongst other things) and sipping water all day is mandatory. My mouth is dry....and mucous-y gross and the mouth sores make most anything difficult. But today when my cousin opened her salad, the pepperoncinis made my mouth WATER...so much so that Chris may or may not have caught me smelling a jar to get the juices rolling! Whatever works!! I can’t wait to eat again... Separate from what’s to come, after my blood draw today my girlfriend took me to meet the boys at a pumpkin patch and I was able to watch them play for a short while. It’s moments like those that keep me focused and moving forward. The sweet breaks from counting calories, blending foods, checking mouth sores and keeping track of medications. I can’t wait to watch them trick or treat at Halloween and by then, this treatment will be a memory. Not a distant one yet, but completed at least on Friday, October 26th. I have been told the recovery is more brutal than the treatment itself but at least the days will be clicking ahead... One day at a time. And today was a good day. Here’s to tomorrow. Let’s get Round 2 done, too!!
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It was a full-on cancer day. A handful of hair in the shower and all over my pillow, deranged music during radiation, and mouth sores under my tongue making food near impossible. I cried. A lot. I also laughed inappropriately. I called friends when I could talk. I texted family when I couldn't because it hurt. I asked for help from my dad. I gratefully appreciated and enjoyed his company to the store and to my appointment. I drove myself the 1-mile to acupuncture. That seemed a better choice for my anxiety than numbing with TV. I took a nap there and released some tears as my breathing finally calmed. My energy was decent today even if my mouth is not. I cleaned the kitchen. Chris thought the housecleaner had come. I felt proud to say I did it, even if he looked at me disapprovingly because he wants me to rest. Food hurts to swallow. I may have to get the feeding tube that I adamantly refused. Things have progressed, so I have to adjust. I want my body to have the fuel to heal as best and as quickly as possible. I want to be present for my boys. I want whatever energy I can have during this time. I want to dance at my brother’s wedding. Tomorrow, I will discuss it with both my oncologists and move forward appropriately. But tonight, I enjoyed the taco salad that I could get down. It was worth it. This is hard. But today is one day. It's the only day I need to focus on. I don't have to be afraid of tomorrow or next week or 4 weeks from now. I am scared, but I don't have to be. So as much as I can control it, I will. And sometimes I can't and that's ok too. In those moments, I offer myself grace. I will treat myself as I would a friend; kindly, with patience, love, and understanding. The day ended with all my boys wrestling in costume on the living room floor. The neighbor kids laughed when I answered the door in my (yes, MY) pink Power Ranger mask. I watched from the window as they all ran in the rain. When Reid couldn’t have special time because it hurt for me to talk, he hugged me and said, “I hope you feel better, mama.” I feel better already. My mouth may hurt, but my heart is full. Life is (still) good even when it is hard. Tomorrow is a new day. Warrior on. You don’t really notice how central something is in your body until it is in pain, but the pain was there the moment I opened my eyes. The soreness in my throat does not feel like anything I have felt in my life before cancer. It’s not like strep throat or a cold, or allergies even. It’s dry. It feels scabby and tight. When I open my mouth it feels like the scab is cracking. I have to stretch my mouth in the mornings, not to mention that my tongue never regained full sensation of feeling since surgery. The right side of my tongue now feels like the day after you burned it on a delicious piece of pizza, it's on fire. All day. It’s tolerable, but not comfortable and is heavy-because of the nerve damage. It takes a ton more concentration to talk now, and Lord knows I like to talk! So when I woke on day 10 of radiation and pain had already arrived, my anxiety set in. I’m not ready yet. Not ready for the weeks of pain that they warned me will come. I don’t want to do it, although I am already in it and there’s no stopping this train. I think surgery really did a number on my psyche with major PTSD over here. I have a super high threshold for pain. I would rather have had unmedicated childbirth than the IV and catheter (which is ironic since I now have at minimum 2 IV’s a week!) But when I woke from throat surgery and immediately couldn’t speak or swallow, that loss of physical control was nothing short of terrifying. And then it lasted for TEN days. It felt overwhelming and scary. Now, I face an unknown pain. I know the accounts of others with this cancer treatment, yet because it’s anecdotal evidence I can’t assume what my experience will be. I don’t know exactly, only what it ‘could be’ and that is daunting. So, I am really working on my fear through this, fear of the unknown, fear of the potential pain, fear of losing control of my body, emotions, and mindset. I really numbed the week of chemo, which was necessary to withstand the treatment, but I don't want to do that when it's not necessary. I don't want to miss life. The last 2 days I haven't taken anything for my anxiety and I am working through these feelings, reminding myself that “fear is a construct that we create” (thanks, Chido). And years ago in my Al-Anon days, I gratefully relied on the idea that faith and fear cannot occupy the same space, so I must choose in which I believe. But, that's easy to say, do, and practice when I am feeling physically strong. Loss of control has been a lifelong struggle. It is how I feel safe. It was how I created safety when I was young and life was unpredictable with an alcoholic parent. So, I know this is one of the lessons that I must learn during this treatment. Trust. Letting go. Relying on others. Requesting and accepting help gracefully. Believing that I am worthy. I never allow life to happen TO me. Life is happening FOR me. And I am present, learning, growing, and grateful. I refuse to let life experiences pass by without growing from them or falling victim to them. I am not a victim. I am a survivor. A warrior. For now, I am living in THIS moment and finding joy in my home, with my babies, and treating myself kindly, remembering that all in life is temporary, even life. And in 5 minutes, I may find myself fighting fear again, but this is a process and I am grateful to be alive for it. I am grateful for the chance at living, even when facing pain. |
Amie LandsI am mama of three beautiful babes; two sons whom I have the privilege of raising and my daughter who lived for 33 sacred days. Archives
May 2020
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