3/17/12 - House of Cards

I QUIT

I told Ric and also Jenny that I was finished with chemo and have decided not to have #4!  It felt good to say it aloud, as though it were possible, and as though I had some say in the matter.  "So there 'Keemoh'!  You can have your nausea, numbness, pain, dizziness, sore mouth, dry skin, bald head, mood swings, depression, irritability, hot flashes, cold chills, drowsiness, and sleeplessness.  I'm exhausted trying to figure out what you're going to do from one day to the next!  Yessir, you can have it all back... AND... I am cancelling our fourth date!" 

Incredible how good I felt after making that decision.  Those few seconds were pure bliss.  March 29 - Chemo.  It's still on my calendar.

A MOUNTAIN OF KLEENEX

I'm not sure when things went bad.  I believe it was Saturday when I did not sleep all night (but did sleep from around 6 until 10am on Sunday).  Then Monday night, I slept for only one hour.  One.  I went to work on Tuesday, knowing that somehow I would force myself to make it through the day.  Certainly it was the steroids that kept me hyper and awake.  By Monday evening, I had had the full 6 days worth of them, and my body simply said NO to sleep.

Ever have that feeling in the morning like you're glued to the bed?  I awoke Wednesday morning feeling like I was glued and sunk about 3 inches down into the bed.  It was agony to get up.  I was nauseous, had lots of pain in my feet and legs (throbbing, piercing pain) and was severely depressed.  I cried the entire time I walked Bodhi.  I'm glad it was still mostly dark outside.  Thursday started out with the same side effects and mentally I was even worse.  I told Ric that I hated being such an emotional wreck.  He told me I was a trooper.  A trooper?  Do troopers throw fits like this?  He said that despite the crying, I always eventually stopped, got up and continued to do what I had to/really wanted to do.  And I thought, well yes... so today I'll march my butt right out this door again.  But by evening I was barely holding together.  I felt like a House of Cards.  One little bump, and all would come crashing down.  Dot, my fat cat, braved her way through the piles of tissues all over the bed, and simply laid next to my head and... purred.  Just that simple.  She lay down beside me and gave me a cat's best gift.  So I got past it.  Laughed at my crying/laughing pendulum and how if someone were looking at me through my windows, they would think I needed to be locked up! 

I quieted.  I started thinking reasonably.  I realized that I had been getting through these last few workdays by taking anti-nausea and pain medications.  They worked!  I felt better and was able to do my job.  However, my body was not getting the rest it needed.  The meds kept me going, but it was like a cover-up.  I wasn't resting and I certainly wasn't healing.  So, I decided to take Jeff up on the numerous offers he had made for me to leave work early, and I did so on both Thursday and Friday.  I came home and took a one hour nap... well maybe three hours on Thursday.  :-)  Friday morning, I was not emotional.  However, as soon as I came through the front door after Bodhi's morning walk, I felt that familiar ringing in my ears and thought I was going to pass out.  Normally I would stop and sit down immediately, but I thought I would go ahead and hang up my hat on a hook in the closet.  And I went down.  Luckily I did not lose consciousness... I caught myself enough to make a soft landing!  By today (Saturday) I felt much, much better.  You know, until now, it didn't even dawn on me that this week has been the week just after chemo!  How did I expect to feel?  Like I could run a 5K? 

In addition to not getting enough rest, I've probably had difficulty because of the cumulative effect of chemo treatments.  So I'm wondering if after my next (fourth and final) chemo, I should shorten my air-shift by an hour for that whole week?  Instead of masking the symptoms and continuing to push, maybe I should just allow myself a little R&R?  After all, my body has been literally screaming for it!  Why is it so hard for me to take it easy?  Why do I feel guilty for giving in?  It's not like I'm pampering myself by having manicures and pedicures and shopping sprees... it's just a nap or two to recover from cancer treatments?  Geez, Jeanne... what would you tell your own daughter?  God is telling his daughter (you, Jeanne) to slow down... don't cry on that bed, rest on that bed.  Turn the volume down on your life for the next few weeks so that you can hear the purring.

SPEAKING HAIKU

Ric is a master of composing haikus.  He wouldn't call himself that, but I am in awe of his ability to capture a feeling or a mood with this Japanese form of poetry, containing 17 syllables on three lines... 5-7-5.  I like to write a haiku now and then myself.  It's fun and it's challenging to fit into the formula.  Seems like you wouldn't want a "formula" for poetry... but this particular one helps to pare down to the pure essence of the message you feel or wish to convey.  It's a bit magical.  During my night of nearly zero sleep, I was checking out Twitter, because Ric does a lot of late-night haiku-composing by tweeting.  Since my feelings that night were so intense and desperate, I added a couple of my own.

Pieces of my mind

Scattered about in the dark 

Sickness raping me 

That's the way I felt... but I didn't want to stay that way.

So I kept writing.

 

 I gather them up

Knit them back together

Stronger than before

Oh my!  I just remembered a haiku that my Dad gave to me the last time I was going through chemotherapy treatments!  (entry dated 3/12/06)

He said to the snail,

Go slow.  Go very slowly.

Climb up Mount Fugi.

It has a different meaning for me today.  I am not meant to run THIS race.  I will reach the top (healing) by going SLOWLY this time.