The cycles

I am so angry. I just lost my entire blog as I was finishing my edits. I'm so frustrated because I've lost an hour's work. Grrrr! I'll try to recreate what I wrote . . .
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Writing this blog helps me in many ways. It's made me identify and put my feelings into words so I can share them with others. I've also learned more about my disease when I've done the research into medical terminology and testing protocols to write about them.

The comments and emails this blog generates helps me realize I'm not alone in my struggle. My village thinks about me every day and prays I'll be okay. Your encouragement and thoughts bring me great strength.

As I review the posts, I can identify the cycles I go through with each round of treatment. They help me more clearly remember and prepare for the side effects, and identify different reactions (better or worse).

I was warned the side effects from chemotherpy are cumulative and get successively worse with each treatment. My blogs and personal notes demonstrate which of my reactions are growing in severity.

For example, the bone pain is no longer isolated to my legs, feet and ribs, but made its way up to my arms during the last treatment. The stomach upset/heartburn lasted longer too.

But while the metallic taste made an appearance a bit earlier this last time, it shuffled on its merry way more quickly.

The worst side effect - the mind-numbing, energy-sapping, fog-inducing depression - is definitely growing in serverity with each treatment. When I'm in this state, I notice my blogs reflect my black mood.

While I can't help this reaction nor do anything about it while I'm in it, reflecting on it almost two weeks later, when I'm cheerful and optimistic, helps me realize the depression doesn't last forever. Although I have to admit, when I'm in the middle of a chemo depression, it feels as though it's going to last forever.

About a week and a half post chemo, I mentally and physically feel great. I know the three weeks between treatments are designed to give my body a chance to recover and build up my blood cells, but the time also gives me a chance to mentally recover and then prepare for my next round.

Two treatments are left. I happy anticipate and yet anxiously dread the last two rounds of chemo. But in only six weeks, I'll be done and physically recovered from all the treatments. Yippee! Then I'll be on pins and needles waiting for the test results to identify if the surgery and six rounds of chemotherapy worked. Of course, I'll then need to work on the mental recovery my social worker warned me is coming.

There's hope and a light at the end of the tunnel. I may be a little worn down, both mentally and physically, but I plan to finish this fight with a couple of final knock-out punches.

Thanks for cheering me on from the sidelines.
Tina