The poison has arrived, hopefully all in small tablets to make it marginally less of a struggle. Calculation: 12 tablets twice a day for 14 days = 336 tablets. Dennis took delivery and I said I didn't want to see them till I have to so I’ve no idea how big the bag is. I didn’t want to look so I wouldn’t think about - how naive. It now hangs like a dark cloud over me.
The “week off” was a complete con. The stuff continues to work its evil magic in the system for several days. By Wednesday, I was back in zombie land, only this time with emotions. I did manage a bit of a cry which is a huge achievement. Friday was clinic morning and I just about managed that (thank you Maureen), though my heart rate and blood pressure scores were rather high. Obviously I hadn’t got enough corpuscles back yet. Then Saturday evening, out of the blue, the capecitabine diarrhoea struck. Come on, this was meant to be my week off!! And I still got talked into sticking with this treatment, rather than an IV of paclitaxel which I would actually prefer.
I’ve been warned by Dr U that the second cycle often proves most difficult. I’m grateful for the heads up but it does lead me towards pessimism - can I do it? How can I swallow more pills when they are making me feel so shit? Can I finish the course? I have to change my thinking. In the last couple of days, I’ve definitely noticed some changes. Dr U suggested my eye was looking a bit better but, as all I could feel was the pressure of the swelling, I batted that aside. However, I took a photo and compared it with my eye before I started the drug and yes, there is some improvement. I can also feel the skin lesions on my chin and back hairline are slightly reduced. Right, that’s positive. That’s a good reason for keeping going with the treatment. I’m just not looking forward to the runs, which I didn’t get first time round. After Saturday, I’m less hopeful I’ll make the same lucky escape.
Time to get realistic, pack an overnight bag and start taking my temperature. I do NOT want to put D through the nightmare of another bout of neutropoenic sepsis.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this matter and I’m still undecided BUT this blog was intended as a light-hearted way of getting me through breast cancer. If I read back, I will notice so much ignorance and naivety in my defiance. “It’s just a disease.” I was so sure this wasn’t ‘a battle against cancer’ and all those other clichés. This was just going to be dealing with whatever shit came my way till I got better.
Things have changed. Cancer now has to be regarded as part of my life - it found permanent lodgings, though hopefully it may get evicted now and then. Is this the right platform for me now? I know there’s only so far I can be open and honest without a little (big?) part of me breaking. So I foresee just weekly posts of whatever misery I’m experiencing (and believe me, there’s a lot of misery) which won’t make for interesting reading. Having said that, maybe I owe readers an update at least on this one try at treatment.
If you’ve got an opinion, email me at jansterjb@gmail.com (not you, Trina, Sheila, Lesley, obviously). I’d love to know who reads this and why. I’m especially intrigued by Portugal...
No comments:
Post a Comment