I do not ever want to sound like a complainer, but there are times I need to vent and get it all out. That is what this blog is for. It allows me to vent in the most entertaining way I know how.
In the beginning, my stomach was not 100%. I was super mindful of what I ate because my body was so damn particular and finicky.
In the beginning, my mind was fuzzy and unfocused. This still happens in spurts. It was, as if, my body had been taken over by aliens. I did not feel like myself.
Of course, now there is the urge to never want to wash my hair as more and more of it falls out. It'll get matted and when I run conditioner through it, my hair wraps it way around my fingers as if it's the most naturally thing in the world. Not really, no, it isn't. I do wash my hair less and I refuse to shave what is left of my locks. (I did shave the sides when it started to get unmanageable) Now, I often wear my hair up in a ponytail.
Occasionally. I throw on a wig to prepare myself for the inevitable. I bought a few wigs, but really nothing is truly me, only my own hair makes the most sense. I look in the mirror, I check my face and remind myself, I'm looking damn good for a cancer patient and I forget my hair is leaving me one fist full at a time.
(I could write an entire blog on hair loss and will write it when my hair is totally gone)
In between all that fun stuff are the mouth (aka canker) sores. These are the worse and the hardest to talk about. Noone wants to talk about mouth sores. (Can you blame them?)
Expressing the pain and actually having to admit there are nasty open sores in my mouth is simply gross. It's hard to openly speak of these, but I need to express the drama around these nasty suckers because it is part of my reality.
Mouth sores are something people don't always know are a side affect of chemo.
I did not know this was common until I googled chemo side effects way back when I first learned I needed treatment.
I use to get canker sore as a kid into my young adult years. If my body was fighting something or if I was overstressed or not sleeping well, it was an indicator I needed to take care of myself. Normally, I would not get full blown sick, but I knew I was more vulnerable to getting sick. Once I moved from New York the canker sores went away. Hard to pin point the whys, but we can make a few educated guesses.
Once in middle school, when I had braces, a basketball hit my mouth during gym class. There was blood and a nice long mouth sore to follow for a week. Probably the worse of the worse. That was circumstantial, and most remembered sore of all sores, until.........
Years later, here I am manging these nasty suckers. It's not even the fact that I get them, but the fact that they are bigger, more painful and last longer. I really should name them.
The first one was huge on the side of my mouth. Along with a smaller one on the other side. No eating on one side, it was a double whammy.
Next they were on my tongue in a few different places. Not nearly as bad as the first round, but still annoying and painful. Kissing was not an option.
The mack daddy of all the sores was most recent and I'm still feeling the last healing bit. The roof of my mouth towards the back.
Holy cow, it wasn't only that it hurt like a 'mofo, but it was difficult to swallow and eat. It is bad enough I gave up drinking alcohol for cancer, (It lowers my immunity) but also food and water? I ate what I could, but really, I was not up to doing much of anything. I'd wake up in the night to gargle and use this thick, pink 'magic mouthwash that is prescribed, but without insurance it cost $120. It does help temporarily, but really nothing makes a huge difference. Sore throat spray is my friend, it burns in the beginning and slowly numbs, but it probably prolonged my healing process since there is alcohol in the ingredients.
A girl does what she needs to do in order to maintain some sense of normalcy, whatever that is.
I say this, however, after not sleeping through multiple nights and days of non stop pain. I broke down and cried to the boyfriend. I was broken and couldn't bare it anymore. I needed help he couldn't give.
That's all I needed to do. He was on the phone with my doctor's office pleading my case. I would never do that and he was my voice, maybe a tad more abrasive.
I had a treatment that week and my doctor ultimately prescribed liquid pain meds which not only got me through the long holiday weekend, but it pushed me over the recovery hump.
I didn't get my treatment that week, instead I was given an IV of vitamins and a dose of morphine. Somedays it's about treating the 'now' and not the cancer.
One day at a time.
It is all I will do to survive.
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