It’s difficult to blog these days. I have so much to say, yet I don’t know how to put it into words. I feel so crappy when I actually have time to blog that I just don’t do it. It’s a conundrum.
I’m hanging in there. I hate that expression but that’s honestly how I feel. I’m exhausted. I don’t feel good. I’m missing out on weekend life and after-dinner life. I’m struggling to keep up with work and home. I don’t have any hair, my eyebrows are thin and I’m hanging on to my last 10 eyelashes for dear life. I don’t eat much but yet I’m not losing much weight. (How’s that for a slow-as-molasses metabolism?) Matt and I rarely get to spend time together because the weekend is when we normally have a second to catch up and I spend my weekends miserable in bed. Keeping up with work is difficult. If you are a teacher, then you know what a giant pain it is to get ready for a sub. I have a sub every Thursday and Friday. I can’t get much done on the weekends because I don’t feel well. Monday is spent catching up from whatever happened on Thursday and Friday. Which means it’s Tuesday and almost time to get ready for a sub again. It’s not fun at all. So, like I said, I’m hanging in there.
Two weeks ago my white blood cell count was too low for one of my chemos, the tough one. Now I’m trying not to panic each week, hoping I can get both chemos because I just want to be finished. Every time my counts are too low, I’m another week behind. I want to be done! Then I remember I still have a long way to go…but to just take it one thing at a time. It’s not easy.
Some days I feel like a warrior. Like I am this amazingly strong kick-ass person because I am doing this. I’m still going to work, I’m lightly working out most days, I’m still going to soccer games and cub scout meetings. I’m going to chemo once a week for 3 freaking months. I’m a freaking warrior. But then other days I feel like the weakest person in the world. When it’s Saturday and I feel like I’ll cry and lose my mind if I have to get out of bed and get dressed, I feel like a failure. Like I should just get up and go. But it hurts. And I feel like I’m going to puke and my head’s going to explode and my whole body, down to my bones, just aches like you would not believe. I’m so very tired. So I give in and let myself rest, like I know I should, but I still feel like I should be doing more.
The kids are doing very well actually. Thank God. Matt is OK. Not great, not even good, but OK. We’ll both be glad when school’s out for summer.
I’m sick of wearing hats and scarves. One of the best parts of my day is when I get in the car after school and take off my hat. I miss my hair. It doesn’t really bother me too much, per se, but I still miss my hair. It’s weird how sometimes my head hurts like it’s demanding to be felt after losing all of its hair. I miss lifting weights and working out super hard. I miss food and things tasting good. I miss working five days a week. I miss my husband. I miss my kids. I know I’ll be back soon and everything will be back to “normal” but it seems so far away. I’m just so thankful that, eventually, everything should be back to normal.
It’s lonesome. My friends and family have been amazing but I still feel alone sometimes. I’m the one going through it. I feel like when I complain it makes them feel terrible. I know it does. So I try to be tough. But it’s not easy. So, like I said, I’m ok. Hanging in there.