Levels of Whelm


Hello again.  Did you miss me?  You just knew that I could not shut up for long though, didn’t you?  It appears I need this blog more than I thought.  Recently I have read a couple of other blog posts (here and here) on post treatment life which greatly encouraged me.  I am not alone and that is really rather lovely.  Thank you Sue & Laura ❤

I have decided this Return to ‘Normal’ Life is overrated.  I seem to run better at the 2.3 miles per hour life on the canal afforded me.  Since arriving back on dry land exactly 2 weeks ago I have been brought face to face with just how knackering everyday life is.  Granted I have had my Mum with me since she has been recovering from cataract surgery.  And that has involved trips to and from Oopnorthshire a couple of times.  But even so.

Life post chemo/cancer treatment should not be about constantly avoiding one weepy outburst or another.  And yet that is what seems to be happening of late.  I am only ever one tissue away from becoming totally overwhelmed.  I know this means I am too tired but managing that is not something I am doing very well at.  Apologies to all and any who have been on the receiving end of one of my episodes.  I think, basically, I should not be allowed out.  Or allowed in.  I think I should probably be confined in a darkened room, though that is worryingly appealing …

Thanks to Exemestane, every night’s sleep is broken multiple times which makes me think I never sleep deeply.  Then again, it may not be the drugs, it may simply be good ol’ chemo fatigue.  I career from one obligation to another without ever really feeling that I cope with any of them.  I can control a certain amount of stuff, but not the relentlessness with which the unexpected occurs.  I seem to only have the energy to cope with a crawling hand to mouth existence when really I would like to soar.

One day, maybe, perhaps.

I should add: I have a friend.  He was receiving treatment for cancer a few years ago when I first met him.  He experienced all sorts of knackeredness for some time after his treatment ended.  This summer at an event we both attended, while I was snoozing in my bed, he was strutting his funky stuff all over the dance floor.  He is my Ray of Sunshine and gives me hope.



8 thoughts on “Levels of Whelm

      1. I think we have to just embrace the weepy bouts – they’re a good way of letting it all out of our system. And I’m greatly encouraged by what you said about your friend strutting his funky stuff. With luck, we’ll both be looking back on all this in a few years’ time, feeling happy that we’ve finally got back to something resembling ‘normal’ 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  1. It is lovely to hear from You Helen, your last blog made me weep too, what a bunch we are 🙂
    I wonder whether I will sleep the night through ever again… though I am grateful for the rearranged priorities in my life, and we are survivors no matter the scars

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I remember, after coming out of anxiety and depression for the first time, I did a series of art work based on the concept of being “well”. I got a date I could go back to work and, all of a sudden, the behaviour that I could acceptably exhibit completely changed. No longer was it acceptable to curl up in a ball and slowly rock, nor stay in bed all day and get up just to go to the toilet, nor stand frozen in a supermarket completely overcome with fear and exhaustion…. The concept of being “well” is something that can mess with your brain. My simple advice is to repeat what you have already concluded: Listen to your body and if you’re tired, rest. Every and anything achieved, no matter how small, is to be celebrated. Lean into stronger arms when necessary. Be kind to yourself. And know, throughout it all, that you are simply fabulous xxx

    Liked by 1 person

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