239. And now for the truth..

 

This is how I feel. Trina and I make up words when we can’t describe how we’re feeling, This is distinctly flimby. Flimby says so much - floppy, flimsy, not-quite-there, drained, exhausted. 

Then I have the severest constipation I’ve ever experienced. Ironic that Dr U warned me of the severe diarrhoea I might get and equipped me with the requisite remedies. There are even instructions about when to contact the hospital ( more than 3 bouts in a day or at night time) and poor me, clogged up beyond belief, doesn’t get a look in.

I wary of taking something to move things along for fear it might exacerbate the threatened diarrhoea so I’ve probably spent about 4 hours going back and forth to the loo, moaning, whimpering, chivvying my bruised bowel to behave itself. The realities of cancer…

Being dehydrated doesn’t help. I’m still not drinking enough - hard when you find it difficult to swallow liquids. What I really need is some TLC up in the Bexley Wing. A comfy chair and a saline drip. Maybe some blood. I’d come out a new woman. Right now, I don’t like this woman.. I’ve picked a fight with someone on Facebook (the writers’ group) about calling sick people brave. I think if someone told me I was looking good or called me brave, I’d clock them one.There is no choice. It is what it is. The reverse of brave is cowardly. No-one would dream of using that term but I can promise you, it’s how a lot of us feel on and off. I think I’m just lacking a few blood cells.

Another effect is loss of balance. I’ve had three falls this week (which I have not told Dennis about for fear of increasing his worry). Since I’ve been wall-walking (as Dr U described it) since my first chemo, I’m an old hand at this but I have to be very careful near the top of the stairs, remember to grip the bannister and the door frame opposite and that’s it, all risk removed. However my falls have been in the bedroom, twice flopping backwards and sliding down the same drawer handles, once tripping and toppling on the bed.

I expected 70 to feel a bit different but I didn’t think I would be feeling this old.  End of moan. I kind of hoped I might need another dash to the loo by now but it seems I’m out of luck. I’ll just have to lie and wish. Sadly I need to eat too. Not a great combination lol,