Physically up, emotionally down

Well, in some ways this last week was a bingefest on normal life. In others, the reduction in physical symptoms allowed the emotions to rise.

I went to work on Monday. I went to my ob/gyn for a consult on Paragard; since I am not allowed to get pregnant and not allowed to take hormonal birth control, this is the best option. I went to CrossFit on Monday. I scaled the workout, but I kept moving. On Monday, day 5 post chemo when it is supposed to be the worst, I was just so happy not to be in the bed that I was grateful to finish the workout. Later, I was less happy, when I thought about how hard 10 pushups seemed or that it felt like I was working out with a garden hose stuck in my neck. I really feel the port a cath when my heart rate is up. I joined a friend's improv class, Monday night, but had trouble enjoying it fully because I couldn't control my nausea symptoms. The class and her teaching were awesome though. I would love to go again.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I went home right after work. I packed a bag for the gym each day, but couldn't make myself go and didn't have the energy to make myself go on a walk at home. I started eating more poorly. Still was feeling slightly nauseous, but not bad. No oral mucositis this round, so that's good. I still can't drink coffee because my stomach is upset all the time. Since chemo, I have become lactose intolerant, though I wasn't before, so milk doesn't help. I do miss coffee.

Happily, I went back to the sleep study doctor and because chemo round 2 went well, I got permission for a new drug for my idiopathic hypersomnia, which is unrelated to cancer. Modafinil, aka Nuvigil. I now have the energy of a normal person on chemo, rather than an unusually sleepy person on chemo. Really bad headache the first day, but fine after that.

I received beautiful flowers this week, and friends and family continued to reach out.

Emotionally however, I struggled this week, with jealousy about what I used to be able to do and how I used to feel, as well as with things I expected to do, be or have now or in the future. I struggled with half the weight I normally move in a workout, as I watched others around me hit new PRs and big numbers I know I couldn't hit now, but could have when I was well. I used to be able to rely on my strength and my workouts to cope, even when everything else was tough, and I was mad working out wasn't quite the relief it used to be. I got a comment about being able to tell about my wig from someone I told that made me feel so self conscious about it, even though they didn't mean it that way, and I dont think it's true. I think you can only tell if you already know to look. My hair underneath is really patchy now, like a dog with mange. I am not supposed to shave it with a razor due to risks of infection if I cut myself, so I have to wait for even my GI Jane buzz cut to fall out. I was mad that I couldn't just go get a venti black eye from Starbucks when I was tired, like I used to do 3-4 times a day before. I was worried about opportunities at work passing me by because of my health and absences. I had to leave a birthday party early, and I skipped a going away party because I didn't know if I could last at the bar. I missed being there for my friends. I have like 10 emails I need to write, phone calls I need to return, thank you notes I need to send, even text messages to answer. I just didn't feel like it, and that's not me. One of Josh's friends had a baby. He went over to visit, and I couldn't go because I thought I might cry there. The only reason I thought I would be going to doctors and hospitals at this stage in my life was pregnancy and starting a family of our own. Who knows when or if that will happen, and certainly not anytime soon. I just wasn't ready to be confronted with that.

It's like now that I physically feel so much better, and the adrenaline of trying to just survive has faded away, I am left with my own emotions and attachments about what normal ought to be. But normal now isn't normal before, and my expectations about the present and the future all have to be revised. It's really hard.

Physically, I feel pretty great. I stopped taking nausea meds on Wednesday and felt ok by Friday. My energy now on modafinil is much better. I went in to the office all 5 days this week, and I did good work while I was there, helping my clients with issues that matter.

Emotionally, my heart just hurt this week, and a brave face didn't make me feel any better. I don't know what exactly will make me feel better. I am trying to learn to accept a new normal and a new version of the future. I've been looking at this as a year of treatment, but this week hit me about how much will be forever different as a cancer survivor, really my whole life. The enormity of these realizations made me feel withdrawn and a little bit lost.

I should have kept blogging. I think it helps me sort things out before they build, and the support helps. Lesson learned and now, soldiering on.

Tomorrow is a new day, and each day is what you make of it.