Recovering but. . .

I'm slowly recovering from my surgery that unceremoniously took place 5-1/2 weeks ago. My incision and drainage tube sites have healed up nicely and my stamina is slowly returning. I actually have small periods of time when my stomach doesn't hurt and there are days when I don't reach for the bottle of Tylenol (I rely on a dose or two most days to take the edge off).

But I think the cancer is wreaking havoc on some of my internal systems. In fact, it may be contributing to my stomach discomfort and causing rib pain. While my capacity to eat has improved, I think the cancer is pressing on my stomach, causing pain when I eat too much. I've also started throwing up at night when I feel too full. I've vomited three times in the past four days. It's very unpleasant, but I feel so much better afterwards. While this may be an effective weight-loss method, I certainly don't want this to become a way of life for me. I'd rather be a fat foodie with no vomiting issues, thank you very much.

While I'm grumbling, I'd better throw in a few complaints about the long drainage tube and collection reservoir I drag around with me everywhere. The tubing is as tall as I am (a statueque five feet), which is impossible to hide within my clothing, so I carry around a pretty red bag with a ladybug on it to hide this medical paraphenalia. I shower, sleep, cook, shop, go to appointments and walk with the whole kit and caboodle.

It's easy to get the tubing caught, which pulls on the insertion site in my abdomen. The aggravating tube gets clogged and comes undone (last night it did that in bed, creating a soggy little mess). I worry about keeping it sterile to prevent infection. It's also pulling on my skin at the insertion site to create a bigger hole through which ascities can seep when the tube gets clogged. I'll be very happy when the treatment stops the cancer from creating ascities and I can get rid of this contraption. I'm sure it will be very freeing.

And I may as well throw in another minor little complaint while I'm whining: the area under the bandage around my PICC line gets extremely itchy - and I can't scratch it properly. Ugh!

Behind all this complaining, I'm really worried. I'm scared that even when I start chemotherapy, and the ascities dries up and cancer shrinks, my body won't go back to "normal." By that I mean being able to eat a decent meal, drink water, coffee and maybe even alcohol without discomfort, and enjoy a pain-free day. It also means not having tubes snaking from my body.

I know I'll have the chemo-related side effects and the resulting bad weeks, but I hope to also be able to once again experience the good weeks where I feel as though I'm playing hooky from work because I feel so well. I know I've said this before, but I'm really afraid this is as good as it gets from this point forward, and that makes me angry.

I'm furious this stupid disease is stealing time. It's sucking up happiness from me and my family. It's robbing me of strength and peace. Regularly, when someone mentions an event in the future, I wonder if I'll be around for it. I watch older people on the street and lament I'll probably never know what that feels like. I hear about the burdens of old age and give a sad, little cheer I won't have to worry about them.

I fret about the future of my wonderful husband and family. I want to celebrate all the milestones of my children and grow old with Michael, but statistics scream I probably won't be. I want to have hope, strength and determination, but some days (obviously) I don't. The burden of this disease is a heavy weight and sometimes it's hard to be positive and believe.

I'm sorry I'm starting this week out with a semi-depressing blog. It is a beautiful day and I'm sure my mood will improve, but this morning, I'm tired of all the crap and needed to vent a bit. Thanks for listening.

Tina