Wow. I think I can definitely say that this round of chemo has certainly been the worst to date. I wonder how much of it is psychological? Like, because I had such a hard time of it IN chemo, maybe that made it worse for me AFTER?
I got out of bed at around 12 on Friday. I had some lunch around 3pm, and just generally lazed around. Went upstairs at 4.30pm to say hello to Neil and pop to the loo, and thought “Hmmmm, not feeling too hot, maybe I’ll have a lie down.” Next thing I knew it was 8pm. Went downstairs again, and felt awful. Back upstairs by 8.30pm after nausea and vomiting, and didn’t get out of bed again until 10am Saturday morning. Even though I felt a bit better on Saturday, I was still fragile.
It just seems worse this time. Even talking about it now makes me feel queasy. I think between Wednesday and Friday of last week was actual rock bottom for me. Friday I was crying, saying “I can’t do this another 7 times!” And I don’t think I can. The end just seems so far away. I’m really trying hard to focus on the nice things that are happening when it’s all over (Chris and Kelly’s wedding, The Pudding Club, girlie weekend in London with my lovely friends, Kellie and Gary’s wedding and being Maid of Honour, a holiday in Devon, and a hot holiday somewhere else which has yet to be booked) and I’m really looking forward to all of those things, but I just know what has to happen before all of those. And I don’t want it to. I just want to skip to the nice bits.
It’s so easy for people to say “It’s OK, you can do it, it’s only a few days out of every two weeks that you’re poorly” or “Yes, it’s horrible, but it’s working” and I know people don’t know what to say and they just try to make me feel better, but nothing really can. I guess the flip side to that is that at least these people are saying something, instead of the ones who don’t know what to say, so don’t say anything.
Facebook clear-out, anyone?