I know we all already know this. But let me just tell you that cancer totally kicked my butt these last few days. To be more accurate, Neulasta, a drug used to fight the effects of Chemotherapy, kicked my butt.
“They” warned me that I would feel achy after getting my Neulasta shot. Honestly, I thought, “it can’t be any worse than my arthritis.” Well, I was so wrong. Neulasta makes me feel like I have the flu, except without the fever. Tylenol helps, Percocet helps even more because I sleep. But nothing really shakes it.
I received the shot late Wednesday. Thursday and Friday I took Percocet and slept, waking ocassionally to eat or drink some water. By Friday night, I felt thoroughly pathetic … I’d been through about a dozen popsicles, wasn’t drinking nearly enough water, and honestly hadn’t showered or brushed my teeth in the previous 48 hours. “Hubs,” I said, “Please make me get up and have a normal day tomorrow.”
He did and I did. I got up and showered, put on some gorgeous makeup (thanks to a fabulous care package from a life-long friend), and went about my day. Last night I even had a cocktail and a glass of wine. I also went to sleep before 8 p.m., utterly exhausted and achy.
Today was another day spent laying around and, honestly, feeling particularly sorry for myself. I wallowed that my mouth is so dry (from the chemo) and I can’t bring myself to drink enough water. I wallowed that I don’t really know what I want to eat, and when I think I do, I smell it and feel immediately repulsed. I demanded a ridiculous amount of sugar and little nutrition. And then I immediately beat myself up for eating so much that is bad for me.
This evening wasn’t much better. A couple sips of wine before I realized that, for me, the durating of my chemo will likely be alcohol-free. Something about alcohol turns my stomach. Actually, something about lots of things turns my stomach.
Woe is me … except that if I didn’t feel like this, I wouldn’t be fighting the cancer. And if I wasn’t fighting the cancer, I could be dying.
So, with much assistance from Hubs, I’m attempting to adjust my thinking. Rather than feeling sorry for myself, I must realize that these side effects are a semi-permanent aspect of my life right now. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I should accept that I am going to feel achy; that food isn’t going to interest me; that *gasp* I will spend months without Bourbon or wine touching my lips; that I’m going to have cotton mouth and feel thirsty much of the time.
And instead of ignoring all the medications I’ve been prescribed proactively, I should accept that maybe I should pop an anti-nausea pill; or that maybe I do need a narcotic to make me comfortable enough to get a good night’s sleep.
And I should remember, above all, that this is all temporary; but the alternative would be permanent. So I ask for you to keep me in your prayers and for you to forgive me for slipping tonight and feeling sorry for myself.