Sick and Tired

sick and tired

This is now officially my ‘good’ week.  Only I am discovering that my good week is becoming condensed into a shorter and shorter space of time.  I do not much like this turn of events.  I feel cheated.  Generally I like compartments.  It pleased me that this chemo malarkey could be neatly compartmentalised into three lots of one week: first week – yuck, second week – improving but still off, last week – good, well and generally on fair form.  It is neat.  Tidy.  Structured.  I like that.  Well, not the feeling yuck bit or the ‘off’ bit but you know what I mean.  Now, it is far more messy.  My yuck bit is still predominantly confined to week one but my off phase has spread all over the place.  It has rudely invaded week three and stomped its muddy boots right across it.  Basically, I feel rubbish.  And I am tired of feeling rubbish.  Sick and tired of it.

I saw Ms Shrinker this week.  I told her how tired I was.  I believe I may have wept.  This will have pleased her.  Progress, she will think.  She was lovely.  I am very conscious that a great many people have a far rougher time on chemo than I am having but just now, I am finding it so very hard to cope.  I mentioned earlier that the half way point did not fill me with glee.  I still feel I have a mountain to climb.  Ms Shrinker reminded me that it is not a competition.  I do not need to measure myself against others.  My experience is mine.  Theirs are theirs.  All are valid.  Chemo is vile however you look at it.

My trip to Ms Shrinker finished with a visit to the Complementary Therapy team for a spot of foot rubbing.  Which was a little bit of heaven.  I left with two wee roller ball oil thingies: one for fatigue (grapefruit and bergamot) and another for sleep (blue chamomile and lavender).  Both perfect.

This weekend I was meant to be driving to my Mum’s but I cannot make the journey.  So, bless her heart, my Mum has swept down from Oopnorthshire and is visiting me.  We will be making a trip to my sister’s for some more family togetherness which I am in sore need of as a change of four walls will be welcome indeed.

Advertisements

15 thoughts on “Sick and Tired

  1. Oh Helen, I feel for you and am so glad that you’re writing this blog – it IS ok to be fed up and crap and not a plucky role model yada yada…..

    You were equally eloquent that chemo is about playing the long game – letting your young self go through this so that your old self can laugh while picking wild plums on the canals – in the sunshine – now after today’s biblical rain the idea of sunshine on the canal should make you laugh 🙂

    Hang in in there dear lady, and feel free to tell me where to shove my platitudes – I’ll still love you! 😀

    Sue, Nb Indigo Dream

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love thinking of your mum sweeping down. It conjures a picture of a medieval castle and herself, galloping over the drawbridge on her white charger, setting forth to be at your side. Obviously, a car will be more practical for sister-visiting, though…

    Like

  3. Helen! You are in our thoughts and prayers and I hope you have a really lovely time with your mum and sister. Hang in there. There are lots of others on the other side who are fit and well and waiting to welcome you to the ‘we got through it’ team.

    Much love

    Jx

    Liked by 1 person

  4. There’s nothing I can add to Sue’s comments. I don’t know her but she is obviously wise and a good friend!
    I am glad you have good friends and family nearby. Your eloquence remains. It nudges me on my knees for you, and for that I am grateful xx

    Like

  5. I know exactly what you mean about the structure changing. Mine’s gone all to pot this week thanks to the infection and subsequent hospitalisation. By now I should be feeling so much better, but I’m still experiencing side effects that in previous cycles would have gone by now. It’s put me off my stride a bit.

    Mrs Shrinker is right, we are all unique and have our own, differing sets of side effects and reactions to the chemo (which, as she correctly surmises, is vile). I’ve only got one more to go, which should make me happy, yet I’ve been dreading that one more than I did any of the others. However, now I’m starting to feel a bit better from the last one, I’m coming around to the idea that I probably *can* make it through one more cycle of evil chemo and side effects and then – all being well – I won’t have to put up with any of it again.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. So sorry you’re feeling so crap. I don’t have a single thing to say to you – there is nothing to say that will make anything any better. I’m with you every step of the way but it’s worth nothing xxx

    Like

  7. Hello. I went through this three years ago. I am fitter now than I was before, my hair is less grey, and life is even shinier. You will move on, you will get through it, and believe it or not you will even forget about it for whole chunks of time. I am reminded when I turn my windscreen wash wiper on as it smells of the chemo unit. It is that insignificant. Keep going, normality will return, sooner than you think.

    Best wishes

    Caroline

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s