Day 45, Sunday

Day 45

Since I have my chemo on Thursdays, typically Sunday is my worst day. Thursday is fine... I am loaded up with anti-nausea meds. Friday, the meds are still lingering and I am taking the steroids. Saturday, this time, I was flushed and hot and felt crazy... and my face was beet red- like the meds were leaching out onto my face. I walked at least, on Saturday, and that helped. Then Sunday... the steroids are gone and that is when I am feeling at my worst. My belly is crazy and I feel fatigued and nauseated and starving and like I am just jumpy and crazy and I want to jump out of this body for a while and spend some time somewhere else. I want to lay and hide and be numb... and then there is life that calls. Children to be snuggled and fed and taken to the bathroom, and given piggy back rides and tickled and attended to. Christmas is calling, with presents to wrap. Food to be made, house to be cleaned. Laundry to do.

I did exactly none of that today, except a little bit of snuggling this morning. I felt bad. Russ had arranged for the girls to go to Grandma's this evening, so we packed their bags... and Ellis was so cute- she was so excited to pack her own bag.

We delivered them over there about 3 - and sure enough, we forgot Ellis' bag.. so back we went and then dropped that off.. then home and to the couch. I napped and watched the Packers play. Russ made a fire. I napped and moped and felt sad and cried. I ate food that felt foreign in me and I just didn't feel like I was comfortable.

The only thing I think I am happy about tonight is going to bed. Another day done... another mark off the calendar. Another day down to being cured and healed.

My bed is safe and soft and quiet and warm. It heals me, even while I sleep. I am surrendering my body to sleep and to the magic of the strong biology and my will to LIVE... I am counting on LIFE and making it my priority to find health, even though I am floundering in that regard today.

I am lonely. I feel deformed and disfigured and gross. I no longer feel womanly or pretty or desirable. I feel like a shell.

I know that isn't true... I know that the SELF of me is still there... but it is hard to see what I see when I look in the mirror. I am pale and losing my eyelashes now. My eyes have dark circles and puffy bags. I am swollen most of the time.

I look sick.

Someday, I will be vital again. I will walk and run and get my color back and lose my waist and get strong and lift my children to the sky and get rid of this God-awful port and find my mojo... I will never be the same- but I am so ready to move on from this dark and strange place.

Just one more Sunday..

Now Zofran, and Melatonin and Cimetidine... and sleep.

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