It’s been over two months since my last post and I guess it’s because life just got so damn busy again.
I started a new job back in September and well, what can I say. It’s hard work. Juggling chemo, hospital appointments and a full time job is completely exhausting. At the moment, I spend my days dragging myself through the day praying I can make it through and my weekends are spent trying to recover from my chemo hangovers which are getting increasingly worse after each treatment, now that the chemo is building up. These last few weeks have seen hospital admissions, blood transfusions, tiredness, sickness, stomach pains and surrendering my eyelashes and eyebrows to chemo but I’m determined to keep going.
October marked one year since my cancer diagnosis and wow what a year. This time last year, I had no idea what my prognosis was and although I have been through hell and back, I’m so thankful that I can say that the cancer has now gone and I can (eventually) look forward to having a happier and healthier life than just one year ago.
November saw my first ‘stomaversary’, yep, a whole year as a bag lady and even though my pink crinkly friend and I haven’t been seeing eye-to-eye recently (it’s not a fan of chemo), it was the first major step towards my life-saving treatment. I’ve learnt so much over the past year, including a whole new ostomy language (can anyone guess what a Dyson is!?), the most being acceptance of my new body and lifestyle, something which I have found very hard to do. Each new task is a challenge and I’ve had to resign myself to not being able to control every situation.
So the plan for now is to carry on. I’m just going to get myself through each day and be the best that I can. I know that’s not much and that my attempt to be ‘normal’ isn’t going how I thought it would. I still feel like I’m in my ‘cancer bubble’, it’s pretty lonely in there and I’m acutely aware that I come across as distant and unwilling to make new friends, as I turn down time and time again offers of lunchtime outings and night time parties. The truth is though, I’m still too ill to do these things. I’m also scared of eating out in case I embarrass myself (I can’t imagine exploding colostomy bags are a great conversation starter) and I can’t walk very far without getting breathless. I hope this changes over time, as I don’t want to be ‘that boring person’. It’s hard not to feel like a failure when things aren’t going as well as you want them to.
The countdown is on 19 chemos down, 11 more to go. Roll on February.