ROUND 7: LIFT HYSTERIA

So I missed my number 7 treatment on 10th June as platelets were too low again, down to 86 (previously down to 74), minimum they have to be 100 to have chemo, normal range for a 'healthy' person is 150-450...just so you can get an idea. To be honest, it was a much needed and welcome break, albeit only a week but boy, what a difference those extra 7 days made to me physically and mentally. I had been struggling the past couple of weeks, it was all becoming too much, too many things floating around in my head, too many thoughts and although not necessarily negative thoughts, just to much to deal with. The further along this journey I travel the more questions I have. The problem here is that you are just not told anything. Nothing is explained. I didn't know cancer and now I do, so I have questions and they are coming thick and fast. All of which were answered on Wednesday last week when I went in for number 7. I am feeling more relaxed and calm about things now.  I mean I know that I will get the all clear in September but I just needed some reassurance that things were going in the right direction.

So, my mini break from the chemo allowed me to find myself again. It was amazing. I woke up feeling good, no headaches, no sickness, a little tiredness but I can deal with that. NO TEARS THIS ROUND :-)  I managed to go for walks (ok 2 hours still seems to be my limit but hey!). I met friends for coffee and lunches...these are my soul times, I need them. Laugher really is the best tonic and I am so very fortunate to have such amazing friends here. I miss my friends around the world terribly but they keep in contact with me through messages and whatsapps which I love. I feel more equipped now to go into the next 5 rounds, because that is all it is, just 5 more rounds!!!!!!!

So number 7 done and when we got home, Chris dropped me off and he went to park the car. I normally take the 6 flights of stairs to our apartment even with shopping bags or attached to my chemo pack  (I need this small amount of exercise), but this time I was feeling sick and tired so decided to take the lift. Our lift has been playing up recently and people have been getting stuck in it...yep you guessed it, it was my turn!  Unfortunately for me, I manage to get myself stuck in the lift with a someone who obviously suffers from claustrophobia ...FFS!!! I felt rotten, I had just been sick at the clinic and it was very hot still. All I wanted to do was to get indoors and lay down but no, I'm stuck in a lift with an hysterical woman and I mean HYSTERICAL!!!!! So the lift stops at floor 2 and the hysteria begins. She frantically starts pushing the alarm button and shouting out. The lift is not a big space and when there are arms flying around (and she is not a small lady) it becomes increasingly cramped and uncomfortable. I tell her to call the emergency number for the engineers and we then call the president of the building - neither are available. By now my husband is walking up the stairs and I call out to him to let him know I'm ok and he goes off to find the president. Meanwhile hysteria woman is now hyperventilating...shouting in Spanish and completely oblivious that I am attached to my chemo pump. She is talking to me at a thousand words a minute...I just nod "si si" and I'm doing deep breathing because all I want to do is vomit but there really isn't enough space to do this. It's actually quite funny the things that go through your mind when you are confined in a small space without knowing how long you will be there. I had figured out that I could be sick into my rather large handbag as long as I remembered to take out my MAC and hospital notes but there was no room to pee, which I was desperate to do ! Hysteria woman now had taken a break to breathe and looked at the wire which attaches to my port (just beneath my collar bone) into my pump...I explain it's my chemotherapy for my cancer...hysteria returns and she starts frantically making phone calls and shouting out to the neighbours who are now gathering at floor 2. She manages to rip open the lift door but of course, we are only faced with the brick wall and are still trapped. I ask her if she is ok, tell her to calm down and offer her my carton of pineapple juice which I was given at the hospital and I then sit on the lift floor wondering if I would get jail time for battering her across the head with my MAC...diminished responsibility and all that!! Anyway, 25 minutes later, engineers arrive to save us and we climb out of the lift and I continue the 4 floors by foot...leaving the gaggle of hysteria behind me.

So number 7 has been ok ish. I mean, I've felt sick, very sick and extremely tired and suffering with strange bouts of dizziness this time and keep falling over...previously known for falling over but this was due to alcohol....now it's my little old lady legs that give way. Had a bit of a trip up in Mercadonna this week, but thankfully I go when it's just full of old people...so I fit right in! Emotionally I feel that I am in a better place. However, I do feel that I'm changing. I am looking at things in a completely different way. Life is different now and I do feel that it has changed forever. Things that were important in my mind are not now and other things are more urgent. I feel overwhelming calm about everything which is out of character for me as I used to be such a stress head! Because of this calmness though, I am enjoying my life. I do not have the daily anxieties that I suffered before.  Does any of that make sense? No not really but I've given up trying to make any sense of this situation.

So it is now 1 week post treatment and I'm hoping that my body behaves and gives me a few good days so that number 8 can go ahead next Wednesday. Littles are officially on 13 weeks summer holidays and we have lots to look forward to. I have a LOT to look forward to...

A SHORT ENTRY: TREADING WATER

Nobody talks about the mental anguish of cancer and chemotherapy. Why is that? Does it mean you are weak if you announce your fears and anxiety, because people (they mean well) keep telling you "keep you chin up",  "you can do this", "nearly there", "you are so strong/so brave". Well the past few days I have not felt brave, I do not want to keep my head up and although I am half way and number 7 is planned for today, all I want to do is throw myself on the floor and have a complete and utter breakdown. You know the type, the ones that 2 years olds do....Roxy mastered them down to a fine art! I really do not want number 7 today because I know that this time tomorrow I will be retching, crying and holding onto the toilet. My head will feel as though it might explode. I will be unable to touch anything cold, drink only room temperature liquid for 3/4 days in this heat, wont be able to sleep because of the nausea at night then want to sleep all day. I will struggle to walk. I know that I will not get ME back until at least 8/9 days later and even then it is a poor excuse for me!  I want to cry all the time at the moment but I can't. I think right now that if I were to cry, really cry it would not stop. I feel full of tears, full of hurt from this disgusting illness and it's violently invasive treatment. It's invaded my life and I now know that cancer will be part of mine and my family's life forever. I can't accept that right now, it makes me angry. 6 more treatments then wait to see if chemo has got all the cancer, hope it hasn't travelled ...wait to see if I have to do this all over again. Then it's check ups every 3 months...to see if the bastard has stayed away...then 6 monthly...then then then...it goes on and on and on. There will always be a cancer umbrella over me. My girls will always know that there is a possibility that Mummy's cancer might return or it might not have gone...who knows. Nothing to do with positivity it's to do with being realistic. I am being positive and I do think that I'll get the best news in September but I'm also realistic in terms of how unpredictable cancer is. It hurts my heart knowing the littles have this bullshit in their lives. They make little comments like "when you are better Mummy we can do this or that", "next summer Mummy when you are better we can go to the beach, don't worry". Roxy told me the other day that it was ok to die and go to heaven if you are very very old because you have had a good long life... she then looked at me and gave me a hug. Not that they think I'm going to die, but they have their own thoughts and worries going through their little minds. How can a nearly 8 year old process this...why should a 12 year old have this fear when she is already going through her own changes. Growing up should be exciting not feeling fear that your Mummy has cancer. They are too young to have these worries and this makes me angry. How dare cancer come into our lives.

I am treading water on my own life right now. I am trying to keep my head above the waves of the cancer and chemotherapy. Nobody really wants to know the dark side of your mind, the fears you have...the sometimes morbid fears that you face going through this. So, I keep my brave face on and I'm strong for my little family. I keep my chin up and smile most days and find humour even in the dark days. I turn up for my treatments with my full dolly on smiling. I turn up for lunch on my few good days with my friends and I tell them, I'm fine, struggling on, I'll be ok. I don't want to open my flood gates as there is no return from that...right now I feel that I would drown in my own sorrow from all of this. Please don't get me wrong, it is not self pity it is just complete and utter exhaustion from the treatment and the hurt seeing my family going through this journey too.

So number 7 today and I was met with a "happy chemo day Mummy" cheer from Madison this morning. She makes me smile. So that is why, although I want to scream and shout and cry, I wont. If I am strong they feel secure, they see me smile they smile, if I cry they are scared and sad and I don't want that. So off I'll go with my lipgloss on again, see the lovely team at Juaneda and get it done...just get it done Amanda.

LONLEY DAYS AND TRIPPING

So number 6 done and I'm half way. Feel shitty again on this one. Shitty is becoming the norm. The recovery days are becoming longer apart...and although I knew it was accumulative, the side effects, it's taken me by surprise at how unwell I feel at times. To be honest it's the sickness and complete exhaustion which is wearing thin with me. We are now on Thursday and treatment was last Wednesday and today's challenge is to actually leave the house.  I have had a headache which I just can't shift this time and suffered with bad dizziness. I want my energy back. Especially when you have houseguests... my mum and stepfather were here from the UK and I do feel guilty for not getting up and doing much with them, although of course, I know nobody expects anything from me, but I still expect me to be able to do simple tasks, like going for a walk!!! It was good to have my Mum here (she left yesterday), the girls needed some extended family time and they always adore Nanna and Grampy time. Of course they get totally spoilt and rightly so, especially at the moment. Roxy proudly announced the other night that she had, since Friday (Mum's arrival) 9 ice creams!!!!! I might add though, that these are small scoops in a paper cup, so I'm not panicking too much...although she did then announce that she hadn't pooped either !!

Saturday was a write off for me. My mum and stepfather took the littles out shopping and lunch and I spent the day on the bed feeling horrific. The tears came again on Saturday. I just couldn't make myself feel better no matter what I tried. The heat is also not helping and it's only going to get hotter over the next few weeks. The chemo side effects are so overwhelming at times, they rage through your body with an anger. They are angrily attacking my body and I can feel each attack. Walking was not easy again because of the bloody neuropathy and the nausea was just vile. All in all Saturday was shit but I did manage to prepare a good evening meal for us and it was nice to have a houseful of family.  Sunday I still feel rotten but I get myself together so we can enjoy a gorgeous family lunch in the sunshine next to the sea. It's nice to be out. A little wobbly on my old lady legs but I manage it. Of course, Monday is another write off because I spent too long out on the Sunday but it was worth it. Since the weekend all I have done really is sleep. Lots of sleeping. Such a lonely existence this illness. Don't get me wrong, I am SURROUNDED by so much love, I have the best family and friends supporting me, I am totally blessed, but I am lonely. It's hard to describe really. You spend so much time on your own because you are not fully up for going out and socialising whilst the rest of the world continues. life continues as it should, the littles get up and go to school, Chris goes to work...everything continues but me.  Then there are the long nights when you can not sleep because of the anti sickness meds. What do you do in those long dark hours alone with your thoughts... well you surf the net, play Candy Crush and hope eventually that you go back to sleep. Nobody can really understand the confinement of cancer/chemotherapy until they have lived and breathed it. I'm not feeling sorry for myself, it's purely another observation and a fact of my life right now.

Another funny little side effect, although painful, is my lack of space awareness. The past few days I seem to be bumping into things. At the weekend I bent down in the kitchen to take something out of the cupboard and head butted the marble work surface, not sure who was more shocked, me or Scruffy as I shouted out WTF and then proceeded to tell myself off for being an idiot...and yesterday I walked fully into my bedroom doorframe and cracked my shoulder. Seriously, what is that all about then, like I need anymore side effects that can cause me harm, what with the wobbly old lady legs that give way at any given minute, cranky stiff old lady hands which drop things because of the neuropathy, chemo Dora brain which cause me to forget things in the oven, actually just forget everything AND now this...I should have a sign above my head saying "approach at your own risk"!! I feel like a 90 year old in a 44 year old's body!!

So, in true Coleman style, with the downs come the ups and funny bits. I thought long and hard about sharing this experience with you all and to be fair, I've been so honest about everything else (I refer to Johnny Fart Pants blog), so why not...

So, I had read somewhere that there is this 'special oil', you know the one thats featured in tabloid front pages, all over the alternative health Facebook pages...the oil that helps cancer patients...yes that oil!!! Well, I managed to find some here and was excited to try it and hoped it would make the side effects more tolerable. Obviously, it did not come with instructions or dosage but I thought to myself, it's natural and supposed to help so I took a healthy "drop" and thought nothing of it. This was at about 4pm. At 1030pm I said to Chris, "you know, I don't feel so good". He thought maybe it was the Indian take away that I had just demolished which was very unlike me as it was the first time in days that I had felt like eating and not throwing it up afterwards. I thought nothing of it as I rammed bread into my mouth telling him how great it was. I don't eat bread!!  I felt really distant and heady. Tried to walk to my bedroom and it felt like such an effort. I was very warm and my head started to feel dizzy. I think I must have put myself into panic mode as my heart started to race and I was convinced that this was my time. OH MY GOD, this is it, I thought to myself, I am actually going to die in my bedroom. I mean you hear stories about people having a bad reaction to chemotherapy and I really thought that was it. It was the night before my biggest little's birthday beach picnic and her birthday was on the Sunday and all I could think was, fuck, I'm going to die on Madi's birthday weekend. The panic just overtook my body. I had an out of body experience and then I passed out on my bedroom floor. It was about 1130pm by now and as it was the weekend the au pair was not home, so poor Chris had to wake the littles so that we could go to the Emergency Room. He helps me to the front door as by now I am hardly able to walk, nothing is making sense in my head and I feel like I am drifting in and out of myself. I pass out again at the front door and a half asleep Roxy standing there in her pyjamas sees it. I can't even begin to imagine what was going through their little minds seeing Mummy like this. We manage to get in the car and to Clinica Juaneda where again, I slump on the floor in the admissions. This is my treatment clinic, so they have my notes on file there and I'm taken straight through. It's horrific, I feel horrific, I do not know why I am there, I feel confused and scared. I'm put in a room on a trolley bed in full view of other patients in the hallway. I start to throw up in the bin. My poor babies seeing their Mummy laying there...they don't cry now they just stare at me with their big wide eyes, trying to take it all in. Chris takes them to the waiting room so that I can have my blood tests and heart monitored. I remember laying there and feeling fear...absolute fear that I wasn't going to leave that room, fear that my girl's lasting memory would be of me on a hospital trolley in my PJ's and dying.  The doctor talks with Chris and Chris informs her of the oil. We wait for an hour for the blood results to come back. I'm convinced by now that I am falling off of the hospital trolley bed and keep asking Chris to help me. I feel like I am drifting in and out of myself, it's a very surreal experience. The results of heart and bloods are all clear...really good in fact. The doctor comes and looks at me with a smile on her face and says in a very calm, reassuring voice "Amanda, you are just stoned, very stoned. You should feel better in a few hours"!!! She then tells me to speak to my doctor about having 'the oil' on a prescription so I know the correct dosage. We have to wait at reception for my notes to be printed off and they ask "so how you feeling now Mrs Coleman" with a smile. Seriously, I'm so embarrassed. I'll be forever known as the 44 year old mother of 2 with colon cancer that got well and truly stoned. Thankfully it was only that, obviously I can't wipe away that night from the little's memory but we will when they are older explain what really happened on that night to silly old Mummy. Really, you couldn't make this stuff up...this journey although painful is also providing us with some lasting memories that also make us smile alongside the tears. All I need to do now is stop Chris from calling me Cheech all the time.


If laughter is medicine and the cure to all....I have absolutely nothing to worry about!!

http://www.collective-evolution.com/2015/04/15/the-us-finally-admits-cannabis-kills-cancer-cells