In case you're wondering who those two happy females are in the photo ... that's me and Gracie, AKA: Gracie Lou, Gracie the Wonder Dog, Gracie Audrey Hepburn Kenn. Her first visit to Yosemite! Dave and I were fetching Auntie Deb to bring her back to Menlo Park when she was visiting from New York a mere two weeks ago. That seems like another lifetime ago ... perhaps even another galaxy.So ... I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop (does anyone know the derivation of that expression? It strikes my chemo brain as very odd right now). Though the first few days of post-infusion life were not without some weirdness ... they did not go anywhere near the realm of horribleness that my pre-infusion imagination had taken me. That changed somewhat by Friday, when I awoke with the feeling that I didn't have the strength to move any of my limbs, let alone get out of bed. This feeling of total depletion continued through the weekend. It took incredible effort to perform the smallest of tasks - it was amazing how weak and achey I felt. Like the worst flu I ever had. The good news? Except for a few hours on Saturday ... I never felt nausea ... and was able to eat (albeit small amounts) of anything anyone put in front of me ... including a great pot roast and noodles dish that my cuz Barbara made (major yum). However, that wasn't enough to kick start my strength. So I laid around like a lump ... alternating between living room sofa and bedroom ... uh ... bed ... feeling truly depressed and more emotional than I had felt for any sustained length of time since this whole saga began back in late May. I felt like I was constantly on the verge of tears ... and was happy to learn that when I did let the floodgates open it felt pretty good. And, lo and behold, my tears did NOT burn holes in my tee shirt like acid rain. I had wondered about that. I did, however, take that inspired concept for a spin and started composing a song in my head called "Toxic Tears." Whatdya think? How about "Chemo Sobbie" ?? :-)
I can joke about it now because today the toxic haze cleared and I am now sitting up at my computer for the first time in over a week feeling eerily close my normal human self. I am grateful and relieved. It is really late (almost 1 a.m.) but I feel so good that I wanted to celebrate by creating my next blog entry, which I'm sure you've all been waiting for on the edge of your respective seats. And though I'm reluctant to return to my bed, I really should try to get some sleep so that I can continue this positive, upward trend.
Don't know if it's chemo brain or just the circumstances of the past few months, but cliched thoughts abound in my head. I've stopped trying to fight them off because they are so appropriately TRUE ... which is why, I suppose, they have attained cliche-level status to begin with. The one that is true for me tonight as I sit here in amazement that I can once again move my fingers around this computer keyboard and put words together to make sentences is that sometimes it takes a really horrible event, or day ... or few days to make you realize how wonderful each day is ... even when nothing "wonderful" is happening. The absence of YUCK is a wonderful thing. Anything that vaguely resembles normal is a great thing. I warned you ... cliche ... but I feel like I have EARNED my rights to these cliches, dammit. I'm not just spewing out Jonathan Living Seagull poop for nothin'.
I really must sleep now. In closing, let me just say ... YAY. I feel so much better. That's something to hold on to for future set backs ... knowing that there is an end to the yuck.
Lest you are curious about just how emotionally deranged I got over the weekend ... here's something I wouldn't admit to you if I were in my right mind. In the privacy of my bed, when no one was around to witness this new low ... I propped up my Motorola Zoom tablet next to me and figured out how to rent the movie "Arthur" -- NOT the classic older version with Dudley Moore ... no, no ... the recent remake with Russell Brand.
I literally sobbed through the last 30 minutes (okay in my defense, academy award winner Helen Mirren gave a hell of a performance as Arthur's dying nanny). If THAT isn't a tragic example of chemo brain, my dear friends, I don't know what is.
G'night and God bless us one and all.
4 comments:
Benita Dear,
Thank you for the update! This is a mighty fine blog site which serves multi-purposes (you get to purge while we get to hear what's going on) -- so you are STILL being efficient despite your current chemo condition, you see?
A long time ago in beanstalk land, Jack and his Mother escaped the mean giant, but always worried that perhaps their clean getaway was not forever. Sometimes they would hear the rumble of thunder and fear, "oh no! The Giant is on his way! I hear his footsteps now!" but they never heard MORE footsteps, so they decided that a giant's vengeance was not complete until the Other Shoe Dropped. Anyway, that's my swing at it...
How wonderful to hear that your toxic tears of acid rain were only an Urban Myth. But I must say, you get BIG POINTS for coming up with "Chemo Sobbie", the winning song title for sure! One day when this is all behind you, be sure to write it. I know it will be brilliant.
Love your new short do. It may be only temporary, but you wear it well my dear, and the lovely Gracie Audrey Hepburn Kenn does indeed complement you nicely. Is it her long, sleek neck that earned her that moniker or is she sweet and dainty and coquettish as well?
With great enthusiasm, I concur that the Absence of Yuck is always something to celebrate every single day of our lives. Let's hope that it doesn't take a Chemo experience for all of us to learn this wise lesson from you. In fact, I wish you NO MORE days of yuck, but I fear there may be just a few ahead. But give yourself permission to feel them and get through them. Know that this too, shall pass, even when that light at the end of the tunnel looks like a train. It WILL pass, and you WILL be well and strong again.
Keep doing it, girl. Baby steps and big courage. And, I don't blame you a bit for crying over Helen Mirren's performance in Arthur. She is phenomenal at whatever movie in which she is cast. Do lose yourself in movies; it is a wonderful distraction from the Big Storm going on inside your beautiful body.
Love from your pal and fan, Sandy
It is so good to read this... so are you composing "Chemo Sobbie"? Keep watching movies...they are a great distraction!
Love,
Suzanne
Benita...this blog is a wonderful way to share your thoughts and feelings. Navigating through the chemo process is challenging, so knowing that friends are supporting you every step of the way can be quite comforting. A positive attitude is a key element on the road to recovery. So....keep blogging....we'll keep reading and responding....and before you know it....the effects of these treatments will be distant memories. Love you....Alexandra
"Chemo Sobbie"...brilliant! Can't wait to hear that one! :) kind of makes me think of "Pass The Buddha" by Renee Harcourt & Blame Sally of her "adventure" through breast cancer.
Sending love, healing vibes and unlimited licenses for cliche reuse your way!
Hugs,
Heather
Post a Comment