When I was first diagnosed, I remember saying to David that I would like to leave a good witness. I wanted to share my story through this blog so my friends and family could read first-hand about how I feel, and about how the story of my journey unfolds.
It has been a good story so far, the story of a journey through breast cancer, and chemotherapy. Later in the story we will travel through the land of radiation as well. I have received five treatments, and am getting ready for my sixth one.
Taxol is the essential element in the second set of four chemo treatments. A side effect of Taxol has been joint and nerve pain. How much pain? "Enough" pain. Let us say that the past week has been as much fun as chewing aluminium foil. I hasten to add that the medications for joint and nerve pain have been quite effective, and I have been grateful for them However, they have their own side effects, making me feel like a zombie!
This zombie-like existence is unsettling, and perplexing. It has also been depressing -- I have experienced a total absence of desire, something that is quite removed from my every day existence. I have had visits and calls from family and friends. I have gone to the cottage and enjoyed the lake. I have had visits from my grandchildren. Still, on the days when I was most affected by the side effects, the best description of my behaviour has been a dull, silent, blank, look.
During that week, I would also extend the phrase "total absence of desire" to my appetite. Nothing tasted right, and I found there was no room to eat anything. Not only was I not interested in eating, I was not at all interested in cooking. In fact, I could not remember anything that I cook regularly. The very idea of making a meal seemed unusual and not appropriate. Other than spaghetti, I could not remember anything that I cook regularly. David very kindly assures me that I do cook regularly, making good and tasty meals. Let us hope these skills return.
Although I am feeling well today, Saturday, I am aware that these feelings might return after Wednesday, when I am scheduled to have the 6th chemo treatment. Ah well, we will survive. And I will cook again, lovely and delicious things, I am told!
Until then we continue to journey, through the land of silence and dullness, and we will see you again, on the way to Santiago.
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3 comments:
Wow. That's some dramatic fog, powerful enough to cloud your vision of yourself as an amazing cook and food-lover! The only thing to do when surrounded by fog is to stay still, knowing it will move through. And remembering the you that is "you" is not lost -- just hard to see at the moment... And it sounds like others continue to talk to you when you're surrounded by the Fog of Dullness; hopefully you can hear voices of reassurance. Thinking of you, hoping for clarity and patience for you! -- Jeanette
Myrta,
Even through fog we see shadows of what is and what will be again when the sun returns. The fact that you are sharing your journey is not only a testament of who you are, but a gift for those who journey along with you and those who will follow your path in the future. LY
Els
Oh Myrta, Your words are so soothing to me. I never knew you and yet your words are a soothing balm to my heart & soul.
I love you, for leaving a trail of words and feelings for me to find you. Thank you for this gift. Love, E
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