Healing torture?

They look pretty innocuous with their transluscent white coating and black lines. They're stored in a plain white bottled and delivered in a white paper sack. Yet, these unlabelled capsules could hold anything from a simple vitamin to a deadly toxin.

I believe they're my life saver; my chance to kill this ovarian cancer scourge. But after less than a week, I'm discovering the cost is pretty high.

When I toss those four capsules down my gullet every morning and night, I feel as though I'm purposefully poisoning myself. It's as if four acid-filled horsemen gallop down my throat and settle into my stomach and begin to battle with razor sharp jousts.

I eagerly popped those pills the first few days with internal chants of die cancer. But their cululative effect and my body's reactions now make me cringe before swallowing them. I will do it. It's my chance to live. But it's a pretty painful fight. Worse than anything I've been through before.

Last night was the worst so far. About 45 minutes after swallowing the capsules, I couldn't even sit still because I was in so much pain. I walked around the house, hoping burping would provide some relief. I rocked around on my feet, doubled over. I cried and moaned. I broke out in sweats and stumbled. I scared Michael, who wants to help relieve the pain; but there's nothing he can do.

I finally slipped into a fitful rest full of strange dreams and memories of the stomach pain. This morning, I woke and vomited. I'm now trying food with the hopes that it'll soak up some of the excess acid/drug/gunk left in my stomach.

Night seems to be my worst time. Maybe because I lie down to sleep, which prevents the internal juices from flowing. The side effects seemed more tolerable during the day yesterday, but again, last night's pain show could have been a build up of the drug in my system. Or maybe I'm nearing the end of the worst because I'm now five days post treatment and the chemo drugs may be almost out of my system.

Surely, an individual can't withstand this torture - for that's what it feels like - day after day. I think I'm a pretty strong individual, with a high pain tolerance and this drug already has me crying uncle. I see the doctor and research nurse today. Hopefully they can give me medication, strategies and insight on how to deal with this hideous beast called Olaparib.

It could be my saviour, but right now it feels as though it's killing me.

I want to say a quick thank you to those who've contacted me over the past couple of days. Just this morning, I woke to four encouraging emails, telling me to keep up the fight and that I'm not alone. They really help. It's a hell of a battle fighting this cancer, but it is easier when I know I have others by my side.

Tina