The Honeymoon is Over

The last few days have been very tough. Although the chemo pump came off it seems to have been just in time, as my body started to react. The nausea and fatigue really kicked in, as did an unexplainable and paralyzing sharp pain that would radiate out from my stomach through my abdomen. I can tell you it brings no comfort when your team of doctors scratch their heads and tell you they haven't seen this before. Perhaps you've given yourself an ulcer? Possible, I have been under a wee bit of stress lately. Gall stones, do you have any history of gall bladder problems. No, I don't even know where my gall bladder is. Heart burn, does it feel like heartburn? No, it feels like my stomach is eating itself. Hhhhmmm, keep taking Advil and let's keep our eye on it. &%$#@*&$@!!

With the better part of 36 hours sans chemo now I can feel myself healing though. The nausea has dissipated and the pain is now more a dull ache with only the occasional sharp pang reminding me not to get too comfortable.

As dark as this was physically, it was a challenge emotionally as well. Up until Friday night, I had largely been the same, albeit a bit more prone to naps. This weekend however I spent most of my time clenched into the fetal position, reminding myself that the end justifies the means and gritting my way through a little mantra cross stitched on the waiting room wall of the comprehensive cancer center, 'Every cell in my body is well'. At some point, I did abandon that in favor of 'Find a happy place, find a happy place.'

I would periodically croak out parenting instructions and essential chores; Van needs a diaper change and a bath, we need to wash his nap mat for school on Monday, no more cookies - he needs some fiber! For his part, Steve played Mr. Mom perfectly. He even managed a trip to the train show at a local coliseum, which was a huge hit. But this was the toughest part for me. Not being able to take care of Van, of Steve, of our family, is harder to stomach than the physical pain. Skipping the family pillow fights, missing the last kiss before he runs off into his classroom, trying to explain to a wide eyed 2-year old that Mommy can't play hide and seek just now, is unbearable.