68. A break?

I don’t know what I think right now. T, my adjuvant oncology nurse, has cancelled my next chemo session on the grounds that she feels I’m running on depleted resources. My ulcer hasn’t healed so it’s still hard to eat anything but the blandest stuff like porridge and it’s all tasteless. My weight is continuing to fall, very slowly but I can’t afford to lose any weight, and the mouth problem (mucositis it seems) is still deteriorating. The numbness comes and goes - my face was numb this morning but fine by noon. It seems the team has been anticipating problems, going by how the EC therapy affected me and the neutropoenic sepsis, so she wants me to see Dr U, the consultant, next Friday to review my treatment. She said she’d never heard me so tired and drained, even when we first met and I was riddled with anxieties.

You’d think I’d be happy with a break, even just a week. I don’t know how much recuperation I can achieve in a week but a break might be nice. But it feels like a failure. I got details today of my final chemo appointments, plus an appointment with Radiology, to have a CT scan in preparation for the radiotherapy. I have an appointment to be fitted with a proper prosthesis too. The end is in sight. Now it all has to go back to the drawing board and that elusive ‘I’m done’ day has become even more elusive. I was all set to revive my gym membership, perhaps just pop in for some gentle recumbent cycling, but if I end up having the remaining chemo sessions on alternate weeks, it will be July before I’m ready.

I have to say my morale is the lowest I can recall. I spent the afternoon reading in the sun and that felt good - then I had a cup of tea and it set my mouth off again. Even walking from the sun lounger to the house felt beyond me. Took me two attempts just to stand up balanced!!

Still, I reckon it will be sorted sooner than B*****. That’s even more depressing than my health and wellbeing.