Week Eight of Chemotherapy
In the world of chemotherapy there is this phrase called anticipatory anxiety, a phrase that I’m sure is common in other “worlds” but for me personally, this phrase has become somewhat of the norm as I continue to progress through my weekly treatments. With a solid two months under my belt, I believe I am experienced enough to be able to anticipate the type of week I will have following treatment, and after week seven was a piece of cake, I was most definitely experiencing my own level of anticipatory anxiety before treatment this week. Typically, a good week is followed by a not so good one, and as I went into treatment last Thursday I was already mentally preparing for a rough round. To make matters worse in the anxiety department, I knew that round nine would be a day early, meaning that I only had six days between treatments to get my one hike done and to recover from the ninety-minute onslaught of chemicals.
I know that the mind is a powerful thing, and although I was anticipating the worst, psyching myself up before treatment last Thursday, I checked myself as the butterflies grew and reminded myself that attitude is a huge part in how I feel during treatment. If I had a positive attitude and took it one day at a time, I typically had less issues with side effects following treatment. Thankfully, round eight ended up being not the worst round, and although Saturday was rough, I got through it, per the usual.
When I’m in the midst of the worst days of treatment, I feel like they will never end. I lay there in bed feeling horrible and genuinely question whether I can do another round. No matter how much I remind myself that this is all temporary, that I know I’ll feel better in just a matter of days, it doesn’t stop me from struggling with the feeling of sinking into a fog of frustration and physical exhaustion that comes with the chemotherapy. It feels like I will never be “me” again, like my brain is broken and will never work properly, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t feel normal. Out of all of the side effects of treatment, this loss of “self” is probably the most demoralizing.
As I progress through the final weeks of treatment, I have to continuously remind myself that it will not last forever, that I only have four more rounds to go, and that all I need to do is focus on the day I am currently in and nothing more. There really is no other way to get through this except through taking it one day, one hour, one minute at a time. It may be only four more rounds, but I am finally at the point where I am tired of chemotherapy, ready to move on to the next phase of my medical treatment plan, and give my poor body a rest. The relentless onslaught of weekly Taxol is starting to finally wear on me, and despite having a continuously positive attitude, on the bad days, I can’t say I feel too positive at all.
My side effects continue to be about the same, although I now have hot flashes nonstop every night which makes it really hard to get comfortable. My bloody noses are also getting worse and despite using Vaseline and humidifiers, there’s a gross amount of blood clots and bloody mucus expelled from my nose every morning. The heartburn that I experience nightly is well controlled with Pepcid, and I’ve started to really miss having hair. I have to be thankful, despite these (and a few other) side effects, I’m able to function pretty close to normal despite only having two “goodish” days a week now. I’m excited to see how much my continual exercise through treatment pays off in the long run, whether I recover from chemotherapy quicker because I worked out through treatment, and am secretly hoping that the blood cells that are born in 120 days will be “super-cells” and I’ll feel like I have superhero strength with a normal amount of blood volume in my body. Finishing up round nine as I type this, I’m looking forward to an extra day off during this round of treatment and trying not to get bogged down by the anticipatory anxiety monster.
