I’ve learned that it pretty much takes a full week for me to really recover from my infusion – and by “recover”, I mean feel like myself again. I think that’s what I hate most about the chemo drugs. I can tolerate nausea and other tangible side effects, but I absolutely hate feeling like I’m not myself. This third round felt a little worse than the first two. For the first two days I didn’t want to do anything, and then I felt really tired.
I’ve also been experiencing a lot of moodiness lately. I’ll be fine one moment, the next I’m angry at the pretty, full-haired girl walking down the sidewalk next to me, and the next I’m sobbing about my situation and my morbid thoughts about death and recurrence and metastatic disease. This rollercoaster sucks and I want off, but I have 5 infusions to go.
I know I’m supposed to be all gung-ho about fighting the cancer, but I am beat and just about ready to give up.
I have also been extremely anxious lately about my brother getting married. Tomorrow, I take a long plane ride out to San Diego for the festivities and I’m just so disappointed that I won’t be at my best for such a big event in my brother’s life. How unfair is this? I know he’ll be glad to have me there no matter what, but I just wish I didn’t have all this crap going on in my life so I could be there 100% inside a body I feel comfortable in with a full head of hair and all the most wonderful hope in the world for his future and my own. Dammit. Sometimes this is really hard.