Doctors, nurses, other patients, survivors … everyone warned me that chemo is cumulative. I didn’t fully understand, or feel, what that means until this point in this round – because the only things that help me are water and sleep.
I have a kombucha carafe that I’m carrying around, without the lid, and I’m using it like an oversized water bottle. I’m not measuring or counting ounces. I’m just filling and drinking constantly. I figured out on day 3 that my thirst ‘meter’ is as thrown off as my appetite, and that my body is craving more water than usual too. That’s a bad, even dangerous, combination, so I’m erring on the side of caution.
I’m also not substituting anything else for naps right now. During previous rounds, I could slouch on the couch for a few hours and come away feeling rested. Not anymore: my body wants shut-eye when I’m tired and nothing else.
I’m thinking that this demand has something to do with the deeper healing involved in post-chemotherapy. I am keenly aware now that chemo is a whole-body invasion: the point of it is to kill every fast-growing type of cell. That means head-to-toe healing on a large scale, too, far larger than anything I’ve experienced before.
All in all, I am recovered enough to know I’m on the upswing but I’m not all better. The restless, fidgety feeling I’ve got has transformed from something steroids-driven into I’m-bored-and-stir-crazy. Still, this is the time for patience–the other requirement that has been and will be necessary for the rest of it, too. Blurgh.
medicinal sausage 