Battle starts tomorrow. I know, now, a little of what those soldiers of old must have felt. Lying in their tents, the day before the battle. Hearing the creak of guns, the neigh of horses, the excited chatter of men who, tired of lassitude, strain for action, for glory, for running free at the enemy.
Tomorrow, my fight starts again. Tomorrow, I go, once more, to the sixth floor where my body is pumped full of poison. I am ready, but not as exhilarated as I was the first time. The first time, I was longing to start fighting this awful pestilence. Now, I am more resigned. I realise that this is going to be a long battle and that I am going to need my strength the whole way along. I am not good at that. I am superb at being inspirational for 5 seconds, brilliant for a flash of time, but the tedious monotony that is at the heart of having cancer is the thing, I believe, the hardest thing about having the whole, dratted disease. It is constant, constant battering at one's self esteem, at one's energy levels and at one's mind. I have hair everywhere, on my pillows, on the floor, on the books that I mark, on my keyboard, on my shoulders as an ever present reminder. My tiredness at the end of the day heavies my legs, drags my arms and slows my mind.
All I must remember is that it isn't the chemo that is doing this to me, it is the cancer.
And I must find my sick bowl ready for tomorrow....
Minerva
5 comments:
Good luck for tomorrow hon. One course closer to the end of the treatment...focus on the finishing line. You are now nearer to crossing that tape, arms aloft, crowd cheering, ready to get your medal than you were a few weeks ago. A lot nearer, mentally, emotionally and physically.
If you have the energy today - get yourself a nice big bunch of flowers and a happy, non demanding, DVD to watch tomorrow night when you're back?
You've made a great start...and all your blog friends are rooting for you.
Best hugs.
If you can make it through the monotony of a day job, this should be just another adaptation. It will soon seem like there is no end to all the drudgery, but take heart. Each day is a day closer to a clean bill of health. I have no doubt that you are the same, strong woman you were vefore this all began.
Scratch that. I think you are beginning to evole into a new and more powerful person as this runs its course. As your hair falls out, so does your old complacency of life. Every moment is precious and will remain so well into your old age. You'll be able regale and amaze your gradchildren with herculean feats of will and recovery from this battle.
Hopefully you'll still be blogging so we can see the grandkids too.
Yes, I agree with both Jo and Rainpete and I second (and third?) their sentiments.
Plus, I will add that it actually helps when you get to know the pattern of the effects after each chemo, it does make it easier to deal with. It generally is the unknown that is so difficult. Those little surprises aren't much fun.
I suggest a comedy or two during these times. It helps to be able to laugh. And if you have places to walk outside, the beauty of nature, the changing of season can also become a wonderful new insight where you will most likely notice things that you have never noticed before. Cancer and chemo and all that goes with them seem to have a tendency to change perspective and make a person much more aware of their surroundings.
And I see you are holding onto your hair until you can't. I sure understand that one! I did the same. I didn't bother to cut it short such as people suggested. What is the difference if it falls out in big lengths or short? I went into it with long hair and I wanted that long hair until I couldn't anymore. My hair was so important to me, it had taken years to get it long again after my kidney problem and all the surgeries that came with it (to finally having the kidney removed.) Through that sequence of events my hair had thinned immensly, and I didn't lose it all, but it took forever to grow after that). Now, I run around bald. I'm not going to try to tell you you will love it. I doubt you will. But it will grow back. Mine had started to, but then switching to the Taxol in round five for the next four rounds has already removed the little bit that was there. At least it gave me that glimmer of knowing it does actually grow back!
And our countdown continues. You will be down to four to go after this week, I am now down to two to go after yesterday. We are going to get there and way beyond. It's an attitude, Lady! and a good one to have!
Best of everything to you on your treatment and afterwards. May this one be kinder to you.
Mary
Minerva, I wish I had a magic way to make it easier for you. Hang in there is all that I can say, and I don't speak from experience (as Mary does). I hope it won't be as bad this time.
Hi Minerva,
Just to let you know we will be thinking of you tomorrow as you are bad cell bashing.
Hope they get lots of the little b***ards
Lots of Love
Denis and Ali x
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