Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Ooof! That there chemo, it's chuffing amazing. No, I don't mean that in a good way.
Tuesday - not too bad, the cold affected hands, mouth, face, throat and then feet I accepted gracefully. I observed them rather than endured them - I find this is a much better approach with critical illness, no point wasting your precious breath moaning about your lot.
Wednesday - OK it's kicking in now, I'm shattered but must get up because my son is coming today, just because I'm connected to evil drugs doesn't stop me wanting to see my last baby. I spent most of his visit in bed but he wanted to spend more time with me (bless him) so he stayed longer the next day instead of going into town with his sister and friends.
Thursday - He made me biscuits - supposed to be ginger, but I only had fresh and no ground so they are mixed spice instead - ginger to help with the nausea that the anti-emetics dull but don't quite eradicate.
Not long afterwards he was complaining of a headache so he laid on the sofa with his head near my lap and I stroked his head and his hair - he asked me to magic it away but it didn't work. Eventually after trying to get him to drink more water we tried a painkiller - within minutes he was rushing upstairs as white as a sheet, bent over the porcelain throne. I held his hair out of his face, stroked his back and somehow, though I really don't know how, kept my own bile in it's place along with the biscuits we'd tasted earlier. Nothing like watching, hearing and smelling someone being physically ill to make you feel worse is there?
Still shaky I drove him home when he was well enough and picked his sister up from seeing her dad - ALL CHANGE! Apparently he was sick again and then slept it off. I'm guessing he's inherited my god awful migraines then. The ones that put me in hospital for 4 days the first time - I go blind in one eye temporarily so that's always nice . Poor kid. At least they don't make me hurl any more - that stopped after the first 20 years...............
Friday again not feeling very good at all. Eventually dragged myself into the shower and to change PTW's bag - always has been an exhausting feat doing both in succession but it's satisfying feeling 100% clean for those few minutes before mount vesuvius starts erupting again and the countdown to the dreaded "CHANGE ME NOW BEFORE I MACERATE YOUR ENTIRE ABDOMEN" itch begins.
I was just brushing my wet hair out and struggling into a dress which fit before surgery and now gapes shockingly at my chest making me look slightly emaciated when my precious Umpalumpa and only nephew arrived.
"You DO look poorly today Auntie Lisa" he said. Yes Luke, I feel it. I made the mistake of trying to brush my teeth before 3pm and nearly lost what little food I'd managed to swallow that morning down the sink. Sheer determination kept it down I think and gravity and perhaps my peristaltic motion isn't as forceful as it used to be - age has some benefits then? I was actually shaking by the time I came downstairs.
Luckily after some home made concoctions of (100% protein) soya yoghurt, blended pears, ginger and cinnamon and some tortillas I started to feel better.
By Saturday I was feeling quite a lot better and was up to a visit to mum's where my special friend of over 25 years came to see us from France (third time this year, I must be ill!). Managed some meandering around shops with mum without flaking.
Sunday - think I overdid it on Saturday! Spent the day in bed aching and feeling pretty shattered but my mind at least was lively and up to a long chat with Auntie Susan.
So, it's looking like 5 crap days and then 9 good ones, well the first of the 5 isn't so bad but the side effect of not being able to eat, drink or touch cold food/drinks is pretty tricky to manage. I miss being able to guzzle pints of water even at room temperature.
| Bad Fish || |
| Lisa Left Eye Loopylalalalala || |