Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Welcome to chemo week number 15! This is the first time I have felt that I might not make it to the end of treatment. I have two chemos left over the course of the next ten days. My fingers, feet, and various patches on my face are numb. Walking takes so much energy. Even driving is oddly hard. I saw on MyChart that I get all of August to recover from chemo before surgery. My last day of chemo is July 28 and then I don’t see my oncologist again until August 26. Is a month enough for me to bounce back, even a little? We will find out.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

If you‘re going through hell, keep going.

Winston Churchill

I’ve taken a huge step back from social media and texting. If you haven’t heard from me, it isn’t personal; I just have so little energy these days. I just pop in to give random updates and then dip off the web, assuming people don’t care. Surprise! People do care and often respond. I tweeted this morning that chemo was destroying me and one of my followers sent me the Churchill quote. It has been on my mind all day as I’ve pushed myself forward to function.

I am in my personal hell. I can’t stop. I have to keep going.

It is the strangest feeling to be in a vessel that was once so able bodied and now is technically disabled or at least temporarily? Maybe semi permanent? Hard to say and we won’t know for a while. My mind is fairly alert (most of the time) but my body no longer responds to my brain the same way it used to. I feel awkward saying that because I have been able bodied my whole life and suddenly there are so many tasks I cannot do. It has challenged me to rethink both visible and invisible disabilities. We cannot discount another’s experience simply because we cannot see it or understand it. How can we do better to validate and offer spaces for people to feel more comfortable? Navigating the world without a disability is already a challenge, so when you add that extra layer and the layer that most people don’t give a fuck about making the world an easier place for folks who are disabled, life feels like humanity could care less about anyone who isn’t able bodied. I really hate that.

I remember watching my mom suffer during her cancer treatment and finding myself sympathizing but also being grateful that I still had my health intact. Is it karma for me to have cancer now that I thought that way? I’ve tortured myself over that question and realized that there is humanity in feeling both of those feelings. We can be sympathetic while counting our blessings, but also like damn our health is the most important thing any of us can ever own. Here I am on the other side of the fence and I know I wish I could save everyone from this experience if I could. I’d rather experience it than have someone else go through it, if that was a real trade. Cancer is a bitch. Side effects from chemo are a bitch. Every day requires every cell I can muster up to keep moving forward and I am, but fuck this fucking sucks.

Something shifted in me after my last chemo. I went from being in a position where I felt like I could bounce back between treatments to a permanent state of feeling shitty until this ends. My fingers are numb. All ten of my nails are lifted and in various stages of removal. There is a weird rash again on my hands and elbows. My feet are numb and both of my big toes and the toes next to them are lifting as well. My face feels numb in spots. My eyes are constantly leaking, making it appear I am crying when I am not. My nose is often bloody. No matter how much I sleep, I feel exhausted. Walking is suddenly harder and requires more of my attention span. I run into things a lot more and I don’t have complete control of my hands anymore. I can’t zip things or pick up things off flat surfaces. I can’t get my retainer out of my mouth anymore with my fingers, so I use the corner of a towel every morning to help lift them off my teeth. I can’t scratch myself anymore. The list goes on and on….

This is what chemo looks like.

I get paranoid that people might think I am lying or think that I am “fine” because I went for a walk on my break at work. I look fairly normal and like myself, aside from the fact I am completely hairless. But it almost feels like the way I am feeling isn’t justified. I am in denial about what is happening to my body. I have to remind myself that there is literally poison floating in my body to kill off cells that can kill me and nobody gets to decide what I do with my time. I can be tired and walk (which I do). I just want to try to keep active and get outside when I am on break at work. Also, why is this thought in my brain? I have no idea how it got there. Literally NOBODY has said shit to me. Even on anxiety meds I find something that doesn’t exist to worry about.

Anyway. My body is deteriorating and I get to just watch it crumble. I will be crawling to the finish line next week to ring that chemo bell. But regardless if I am crawling or someone is pushing me in a wheelbarrow, I am crossing that fucking finish line. I am ringing that damn bell.

If you’re going through hell, keep going. Keep going.

Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Stone Sour.

“I’m looking at you through the glass
Don’t know how much time has passed
Oh God, it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head”

– Through Glass, Stone Sour