Chemo-cal Changes

As I approach what better be my last chemotherapy treatment [shaking fist], my fear that I’ve been forever physically changed has not diminished in the slightest. But it’s not just the physical changes. Lately, I can’t help think about the other ways this wretched ordeal has changed me.

As I’ve mentioned in past posts, I’m constantly concerned that I won’t go back to my healthy, happy, able-bodied, never-get-sick, doctor-dodging self. Oh sure, many people have undergone chemotherapy and later went on to live ‘normal’ lives, but enduring 8 weeks of poisonous toxins surging through my system, is sure to have lasting effects, right? Will I seriously be able to overcome the physical revolution—weakened strength, old woman endurance, absence of taste, injured immune system, neuropathy, hair loss, and so on and so on (if you’ve read my blog, you know I’ve been reduced to a dawdling Roger Smith)—that has swept over my body?

What are not so obvious are the social, mental, and emotional changes that come from having your insides corroded with acid and replaced with a weaker, whinier version of what once was.

Socially, I’m viewed differently than I was a few months ago. That’s just the reality of where I am. Before the crippling chemo, when my friends would call or text, we’d talk about our companion animals, relationships, animal rights concerns, social issues or food (lots of food talk)—and enjoy tons of laughs. And when either brother called, we talked about fun things like movies, family, football, my nephew, edibles, and last night’s excitement—depending on which brother. Now, when anyone calls, it’s mostly centered on how I am feeling, what the doctors have said, and how many treatments I still have to go. It’s important and of course relevant to my current position, but damn, it must be so boring for everyone! Who wants to always hear about how sick I am (because you know I’m not shy about expressing the truth of chemo’s side effects)? It’s no wonder some people have stopped asking.

When it comes to being active with friends or family, I’ve pretty much taken myself off the playing field. In the beginning I thought I could (and did) do more. But now that the toxins have been pillaging through my veins for weeks—each additional “treatment” adding to the convoy—I’ve resorted more of a hibernation lifestyle. Through this, I’ve felt the warmth of friends who I never knew had it in them, rise up to my side (making me vegan mac & chz, as one example) during these treacherous weeks in so many ways. Conversely, some folks I hoped would be there for me have proved to be more of the fair-weathered types. I’ve learned so much about myself, my husband’s commitment, the strength of my friends, and the power of medicinal marijuana (truthfully, I haven’t even had the courage to try it during all this…….I know, I know—if ever there was a time, this is it).      

The changes are palpable, both physically and socially. Will I be able to return to “normal”? I really hope to recover from these changes, or grow and blossom because of the strength I’ve gained and bonds I’ve reinforced. Thank you all for reading and supporting me, I couldn’t do it without you. Please don’t forget me, I’m almost done!