Wake Up... Break Down

Woke up and sort of… lost it.

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I don’t know if it’s just… exhaustion (I didn’t sleep very well), or just… overloaded emotions… or what.

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Started crying, can’t seem to stop really.  I am so tired of all of this.  I’m tired of being in pain, I’m tired of being uncomfortable, I’m tired of being exhausted, I’m tired of being stuck, I’m tired of being so limited.

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I know that I should just… be grateful.  My Cancer crap is almost over.  But more and more I just seem to feel like… I don’t know-  I guess like all the emotional reserves I’ve been dealing from through all of this are just dried up finally.

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I feel weak, and tired, and used up.  I’m physically uncomfortable, I’m emotionally drained.

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And there isn’t really anything to be done about it, except to keep going and let myself recover.  But I am so done.  Every time my pain starts I just want to quit.  But there’s nothing TO quit.  All of me is just so so tired.  Physically, emotionally, in every way- I’m tired.

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I did a lot of … “powering through” this year.  I think a lot of people (myself included) expected a lot more… breakdown as we moved through all of this, but I managed not to.  At some point though, the well of emotional toughness runs dry and I think maybe I’m just there finally.  I don’t really know what to do about it.  Part of me thinks the best thing is just to sleep as much as possible.  Which is a challenge anyway because sleep has never been my strong suit really.  I have a hard time falling asleep, and almost as hard a time staying asleep once I do.

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Sleeping pills and medications haven’t really worked well for me typically, except (lately) for Nyquil now and then.  And aside from night before last when I literally passed out cold from being in so much pain: I don’t really rest well either.  And not for lack of desire or trying either.

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I don’t really know what to do, except hope that I cry myself back to sleep right now?  Hope that I can zonk out enough to get enough rest to feel better later, or tomorrow, or next week. 

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I’m just so tired of having my body in breakdown and of feeling constantly on the edge of emotional breakdown too.

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So.. what to do?

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I guess I climb back into bed, cover up, and hope I fall back to sleep and wake up feeling better.  There’s not really much else TO do.

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Eventually I’ll feel better.  I just will, it’s the nature of all of this shit. 

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I just wish eventually was a little bit closer to now.

Thanksgiving

I think I may have actually passed out from pain last night.  Seriously. 

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Bone pain in my legs somehow exploded… on the 1-10 scale… I think I was closest to about a 12 when I literally… lost consciousness.

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The good news is, because of it, I got really solid rest for once.

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The bad news is, although my pain is better, it’s still pretty bad.

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Going to get up, get dressed… pack a bag just in case- and then head to my mom’s for thanksgiving.  I have a feeling it’s going to be a lot of me asleep on her couch today… but I miss them. 

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I’m so ready for my body to go back to normal.  I’m tired of being in pain.

No Babies...

      In all of this Cancer nonsense, sometimes it's easy to sort of ... forget some of the permanent ramifications of everything I've dealt with.  Physically speaking.

       The thing is, even before Cancer, I had sort of come to terms with the fact that kids probably weren't in my future.  I'm single, an abuse survivor, a lesbian, no real prospects hanging around.  I started to realize that even if I did find and fall in love with the right girl... by the time we got to the whole... having kids part- my bits would probably be pretty well expired.

   Since I'd always had really complicated, difficult, and unpleasant female issues growing up, in the year before Cancer, I'd started to seriously consider seeking out at least a partial hysterectomy anyway.

    But back then, I could still change my mind.  I could still pick up one day and say... no... babies.. I want babies.  For a lot of years that was on my list of things I wanted to do- and pretty high on the list in fact.  To the point that when I talked with my best friend about the hysterectomy decision ... we had a conversation of more than an hour where I had to convince her that I really had changed my mind.

    The thing is, Cancer takes away your choice.  I think sometimes the only reason I have any residual emotional waves about not being able to bear children is BECAUSE Cancer took away the choice.  If I'd done the hysterectomy (partial or otherwise) 100% by choice, I don't think I'd have that (albeit small) internal conflict about it.  Because there's just something about... choice.  About it being a decision made freely.

   Ultimately, I didn't get to make that decision freely- it was made for me.  The value of my life and healing over the desire to carry babies.  I chose life.  I don't regret that, and I never will.

   But the point of all this isn't to talk about whether or not my hysterectomy was a choice.  Or whether or not I sometimes still wish I had the option to carry a baby.  The point is about a conversation I had today... with a nurse of all people.

   I had my first PT appointment today and thanks to a small service expansion there's now a chemo/cancer focused PT section at my Cancer center.  Please note the redundant use of the word Cancer.  The PT group is FOR Cancer patients.  That's the whole point of its existence.  It's there to serve the Cancer patients.

   As is typical with a first appointment, you have to go through the same 50 questions with the nurse before you get to see the Doctor.  And it started typically enough:

Nurse: "And where are you experiencing pain?"
Me: "Legs, feet, numbness, some in my hands and arms today too"
 Nurse: "Weight?"
 Me: "#"
 Nurse: "Height?"
 Me: "#"
 Nurse: "Date of last period?"
 Me: "I don't really know."
 Nurse: "Closest guess?"
 Me: "I've had a hysterectomy."
 Nurse: "No Babies?!"
 Me: "Um... what?"
 Nurse: "No babies?!?"
 Me: "No.  No babies."
 Nurse: "Why no babies?!"
 Me: "Cancer doesn't want me to have babies."
Nurse: "Ok, do you have a guess about your last period?"
Me: "I have no idea, before the surgery I pretty much had it all the time"
Nurse: "That's too bad... and no babies too."'

     That was the conversation.   And she's lucky.  Because my emotional attachment to the baby thing is pretty minimal.  But it still... rankles.  I don't necessarily want to be reminded that I can't change my mind, that the choice of having my own biological babies is no longer mine.  And I really, REALLY  didn't appreciate the implication that not being able to have babies (for whatever reason) makes my life less rich or less positive, or less worthwhile.  And while I know she probably meant well... that was the certainly the tenor of her reaction.

      She's lucky.  Because if I were someone who felt the real and genuine loss of that avenue, the way many women with Uterine Cancer do, she could have really created some emotional wreckage today. 

    At the best, she was incredibly insensitive.  And at the worst, she could have really added to the emotional damage of a woman who might already have been fragile to begin with. 

   I think the thing that boggles my mind the most out of it all is that it happened at the CANCER CENTER.  The woman is a nurse who works with CANCER PATIENTS.  My situation should not have been shocking to her.  It shouldn't have been a surprise and it should NOT have warranted or elicited the reaction from her that it did. 

    I'll be ok.  I'll re-center, re-adjust, and move on.  But to those in the world that still think having children is the end all be all, to those that still think that being a woman and bearing children is the thing that gives life the ultimate meaning:

  It's not.  Whether by choice or not, my life is not going to be lacking or lackluster because I don't have children.  And it will never, ever be appropriate to insinuate otherwise.   The nurse should have known better- but you never do.  Don't push a woman who says she's had a hysterectomy, or who says she's not having, or doesn't want to have children.  Realize that sometimes, that's not a choice.  And respect that even if it was her choice- it's none of your business.

Moving Forward

I've decided my goal for the rest of this week (aside from survive my first PT session on Weds, and get through my first Celebratory Turkey Day post Chemo), is to unclutter my space. 

      I cleaned a bunch tonight on a whim. Tomorrow I pull everything out of the closet and either donate it, or organize it better. Then, the corner where Lucy's kennel used to be. Then the bookcase, and desk area. 

       I want to start LIVING in my space again instead of just... kind of... existing in it. I need to do this. It will probably take most of the week, but I think it's the first really major emotional/physical thing I can do to start taking back some of the control I lost to all this Cancer crap. Time to start taking my life back.

     

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      So, I definitely overdid it today.  But I got so much accomplished and I already feel better... emotionally.  There is something really healing about purging this way.  About making concrete decisions about what stays and what goes and why.

      I got rid of some mementos- I won't lie.  The kind of thing my amom would have KILLED me for not keeping.  But if Cancer has given me one thing... it's this opportunity to stop looking backwards.  More than that, the gift of starting someplace completely fresh.

      In this year, I've lost my health, my job, some friends, financial stability, confidence, control.

      I stand at the cusp of being... finished and can see something greater.  I wouldn't have wanted to do it this way- but I have this blank page in front of me right now and I want to use it. Cancer isn't exactly the way I'd recommend wiping the slate clean- but it will work.

     It'll take time to build back.  Money too.  I paid the first batch of my medical bills this week- which was surprisingly empowering actually.  Thanks to continued donations (trickling in as they may be), I may come out of this without too much financial damage I hope.  And if I can just get the art/jewelry selling rolling well enough- maybe I'll even have a chance to sort of... live my dreams too.

    The point though, harkening back to the whole cleaning thing, is that I have this time, and this opportunity to really... start Living again.

     The thing is, I call this blog "The Year that Cancer Stole," but in all honesty it's more like 2 years.  At least.  It's hard for me these days to think back to a time when I felt... good.  Normal.  Healthy.  At least physically.  I did all this really intense work and got my emotional and mental health really well tidied... and then my body just... flipped out. 

   In 2010 I think is when it all started to go wacky.  2 years.  I don't even remember how it started.  I just remember being so tired all of a sudden.  And I chalked it up to work.  My job was super demanding, one of those 24/7 things that I got so invested in that it really took over my life.  I thought it was just that.  Me letting my job carry me away. 

   I don't think it was all that anymore.  Partly, no doubt.  But I think part of it was my body breaking down.  And then the pain started, and kept coming.  Most of 2011 is just a blur of pain.  :shrug:  And here we are- almost 2013.  And it's almost over.

   My life for the last two years.  A body breakdown. 

   It's time for recovery.  I have the tools to handle the emotional parts (mostly I think)... and one of those tools is to... "unfuck my habitat" as they say here in cyberspace.  (pardon the language).  So that's what I've been doing today.

    Tomorrow (or maybe Friday) I'll continue.  I have at least one other spot in the room I really want to declutter. 

    And then of course, Thursday is Thanksgiving.  It'll be the first Thanksgiving in a few years now without this black cloud of physical issues.  Not that things are peachy yet.  Still have bone pain, indigestion... a little nausea here and there.  But it's the start.  I'm starting.

    And I'm grateful.  Grateful to have survived this year, the year before.  To be approaching Cancer-free status, to having even short spurts of energy where I can work on my space and my self and what I want moving forward.

  Grateful to move forward.

    It's going to be nice... to look forward.

Neropathy

My first round of chemo was really more about the radiation.  The chemo in July was just what they call a "booster."  It's not super powerful, it's used with the radiation to make that treatment work better.
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My big issue with my first round of treatment was definitely the stomach issues.  Nausea, inability to keep food in my stomach, complete lack of appetite.  It was draining, the radiation 5 days a week in the middle of the day in the middle of a super-hot summer.
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This round of chemo is very different.

For one, the drugs are much more powerful, it's a "systemic" treatment, meaning it's designed to surge through my whole body and kill any cancer cells it finds.  It's more potent, and more damaging.
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I've gotten off pretty easy side-effect wise on this round.  For a lot of people the 2 chemo drugs I'm on completely tank their immune systems.  They are often ravaged by nausea, vomiting, drastic changes in their taste buds.
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My big issue with this round is the Neuropathy.  It's been mostly in my feet (at least the numbness has been), my legs (pain), and my forearms (pain).  Tonight, the numbness and stiffness started creeping into my hands.
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And I'll be honest, I freaked out a little bit.  It's been frustrating enough to deal with the numbness in my feet, and the pain in my legs.  I'm on gabapentin, which seems to work most of the time to a certain degree.  But for some reason, tonight it's just not really cutting it.  So I'm in pain.  My feet sort of cycle between various stages of numbness and pain, my ankes, shins, forearms- deep shooting bone pain.
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And now, as an added bonus, there is a numbness, and bone pain creeping into my hands... mostly  my left- but really in both.
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So, I lost it a little bit.  Had a good cry.  Got frustrated.  Took a 3rd Gabapentin.  And now I'm trying to sleep.  It might be one of those nights that needs nyquil.  Sometimes the best option is just to try and sleep through the worst of it.
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Less than a week to my next (and last) chemo treatment.  Then it's a few more weeks of side-effects and then... hopefully I'll be Cancer Free.... and side-effect free... neuropathy free.  And in the meantime...
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Well, some nights you just have to have a little fit, and then do your best to sleep through the worst.