Early AM steroid-induced blogging again - but hopefully this is the last of such nights! Although my platelets have dropped further and I had to have some bleeding on my stoma checked, my oncologist allowed me to proceed with the last chemo infusions yesterday. When the surgeon who checked my stoma casually said "let's just postpone chemo for a while", I involuntarily screamed "NO"! Between my reaction, the ostomy nurse's opinion that the stoma was healing, and my oncologist's more laissez faire attitude, I was allowed to proceed. The chemo effects are pretty nasty this time. Lots of nausea, muscular cramping, tiredness...BUT I am so pleased that I'm going to have this pump removed (hopefully for the last time) this Friday!
Cancer certainly runs you through the full gamut of human emotions. For the first 4 months after diagnosis I experienced acute anger, denial, confusion, self-pity and anguish. But as treatments started I came to realize that denial, self-pity and anguish were self-destructive, and I really needed to rally all my emotional resources for the task at hand. I gradually came to resignation, and then finally acceptance.
Recently, I reflected to Steve (who suffered through many bouts of my crying and "why me-ing" in the first 4 months) that it had been months since I had cried. Well, yesterday after the nurses installed the home-chemo pump for the last time and toasted with tiny cups of ginger-ale, the floodgates opened again. As I walked out the door at Lahey, I realized that the tears really hurt, both as they passed through my inner tear ducts and as they wet my face. When I realized that the chemo in my body was likely coming out in my burning tears, I stifled the emotion and washed my face. I will need to save the indulgence of tears for a future date. I am sure many opportunities will arrive in upcoming months as I adjust, recover from, and reflect upon this year.
Recently, I reflected to Steve (who suffered through many bouts of my crying and "why me-ing" in the first 4 months) that it had been months since I had cried. Well, yesterday after the nurses installed the home-chemo pump for the last time and toasted with tiny cups of ginger-ale, the floodgates opened again. As I walked out the door at Lahey, I realized that the tears really hurt, both as they passed through my inner tear ducts and as they wet my face. When I realized that the chemo in my body was likely coming out in my burning tears, I stifled the emotion and washed my face. I will need to save the indulgence of tears for a future date. I am sure many opportunities will arrive in upcoming months as I adjust, recover from, and reflect upon this year.
Have a wonderful week everyone! Looks like we're in for a stretch of lovely weather and a delightful late-summer weekend. 🌟Please enjoy every moment, dear friends and family!!
Oh my poor Juanita! Even your tears are turned against you! But bully to you for choking them back, to allow the medicine that will protect your future, however vile the side-effects, course through your body, hopefully for the last time! I have to cheer on the meds, because they are returning our shining, beautiful friend to health - to so many more beautiful days and star-studded nights, to laughing and dancing, and howling at the moon. And until you can cry for yourself again, I'll be happy to do it for you. I love you and will cherish each time we see each other. I can't wait to give you a big hug and raise a toast to the end of this seemingly endless travail. There are better times ahead for sure! This weekend is turning out to be magnificent, and I will be thinking of you, and your hard fought victory, as I do as you ask, and try to enjoy every moment!
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