Side Effects

There was a lot of healing this week. While there still isn't any firm answer as to root cause of the abdominal pain, the further I get from the chemo the better I feel. I'm certainly not 100%, and as I'm starting to see some impact from the radiation I think it will be awhile before I am, but there's marked progress. The pain is infrequent and much less severe now, so much so that I'm eating again (though I'm careful to limit myself to bland and easily digestable foods), and most of the other side effects are gone altogether. This morning, Steve went skiing, while I happily made Van breakfast and played hide and seek.

As I visit with my doctors, read up on the materials I've been given and provide friends and family updates, there's so much focus on the side effects. It makes me think about all of the positive side effects that don't get near as much attention...

• I'm learning that no matter how strong I thought I was, I'm even stronger.
  
• My family and friends have all stood up to help bear this burden, and I'm learning that each is even more creative, kind, generous and resourceful than I had already given them credit for.
  
• I'm figuring out how to ask for and receive help, hopefully with grace - Steve might argue the graceful part and I think Jen may have mentioned something about 'unrelenting bossiness', but I'm giving myself the benefit of the doubt here.
  
• I feel a new depth of love and respect for all of those supporting me through this - and for myself.
  
• I'm finding new ways to interact with Van that are just as enjoyable. Thanks for the suggestions, Kristy.
• I have to change fewer diapers and it doesn't look like I have to cook a meal until Thanksgiving.
  
• I have renewed friendships from high school and college that, purely due to geography and the usual complications of life, had been dormant the last several years - and not surprisingly, I'm finding as much joy, humor and comfort in those relationships as I did years ago.
  
• I threw away the Weight Watchers book and points calculator.
  
• I'm slowing down and really appreciating everything around me, especially the simple pleasures. Service with a smile AND fresh scones at the bank on a Saturday morning? What a great day!
  

So much anxiety, fear, courage, laughter, pain, relief, love, appreciation - it's quite the rollercoaster, this journey!

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.