Wednesday, January 16, 2013

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! 

5 comments:

  1. You'll be fine.
    Come out of hibernation!
    Please.

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  2. You have to vanquish your fear
    The biggest enemy you face is not the physical effects of the chemotherapy
    Those will fade
    Your biggest enemy is your stress level
    Im sorry
    I know
    It's easy for me to type this from my armchair
    Parroting something I've read
    While you're suffering real pain
    I'll try and do more
    Keep an eye out for the mailman

    Love
    dob



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  3. Glad the chemo is now over and b/c of your inner strength I know you will return to the Amy you were before. You can fight this and come out victorious. Wish I could do more for you than write every once in a while. - Jen P.

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  4. Honestly, (and you know how honest I am) I am looking forward to continuing to get to know who you are and who you are becoming. Perhaps we always wake up in the morning being a slightly different person than we were the day before... and maybe life is just a constant sea of change. At any rate, I am looking forward to our adventures to come, whatever they may be, and I am so glad to have you in my life and call you a friend. xo

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  5. Holy CRAP! What was the nonsense about forgetting about you! THAT is not going to happen! There may be a lot of uncertainty in chemo, but forgetting about Amy is definitely not an option! I know you are worried, but let us reassure, we won't forget about AMY!

    ReplyDelete