Greetings from the lake. I am here for five weeks with my sister, brother-in-law and, of course, Ginger. I don’t have any significant plans while I am here. Mostly resting and trying to recuperate as best as I can. I have chemo for three of the Fridays so there is that.
A few weeks ago, I woke up very early and felt grateful. Not so much about being up early but aware of how much that I have for which I am grateful. That I woke up after a restful sleep, feeling rejuvenated. I am grateful for the first coffee in the morning, sipping it while I play Words with Friends, Scrabble and check out Twitter and FB. Also I am grateful for the internet - it is hard to imagine what a pandemic lockdown would be like without access to the internet, streaming services and on-line shopping. I’m grateful for a positive dental check-up with only one small repair. I’m also grateful for books, naps and video calls with family and friends. I have plenty of food and the time and interest to cook and bake. So, I have lots to be grateful for.
I am grateful, too, for the timing of my MBC diagnosis. Even if it could have been earlier, it meant that I could return home to my family in Saskatchewan and retire. I’ve built a life here, with family and friends (and Ginger). I read recently that researchers have found that in some patients, the cancer had started spreading before the main tumour was detectable. I am grateful that I read this so that I feel less guilty about what I did or did not to to cause the metastases. Having been raised Catholic, it is hard to get rid of all of the guilt but I do what I can.
So far, Saskatchewan has not been hit hard by the pandemic and most of the outbreaks have been localized. The province opened up in stages and now even the casinos and bingo halls are operating once again, though not to the same extent. I’m still not comfortable with going in the stores so when I do, I wear a mask and do my best to stay away from people. It’s a way of life now until a vaccine is developed and available.
I miss going to the grocery stores, and checking out Winners and the Dollar store. I miss hanging out with people without having to worry about whether I need to wear a mask and whether I am far enough away from them. I miss the casual hugs and kisses from family and friends. I miss planning trips and excursions.
I’ve found that I have more blue periods than normal and have learned how easy it is to spiral. I need to get out of the house every day, even for just a short errand or a short walk or to get a bit of sunshine or fresh air.
I recall my previous commitment to do more exercise and go to the gym. Well, the gym is out for obvious reasons. I tried to do some exercises at home, from a sheet I got from my physiotherapist. After the second day of doing the exercises, I went for a short walk and had trouble with a pain in my side and difficulty breathing. The pain is on the site of one of my metastases so it was clearly related. As was done in the past, I had a shot of radiation to the area but that did not resolve the pain. It hurt intensively when I stretched those muscles or put weight on them. I had a temporary nerve block done which essentially turned off the nerves in the region. It was diagnostic and lasted less than a day but it did the trick. It is possible I might have one done permanently, if needed. I find now, though, that the pain is not as frequent or as intense. The hardest part of this all was just dealing with the constant pain. It made me wonder if this would be my life from now on and whether it is the beginning of the end. Luckily it does not appear that I am at this stage yet.
I also have some recurrent pain in my spine and right tibia due to metastases that I will try to get treated with radiation. I feel like my body needs constant tuning and adjustment.
As time goes on, I seem to acquire more medication - for the pain and neuropathy, reflux, digestion, anxiety, insomnia. The annoying thing is that with each medication I take to treat a problem (many of which are side effects of chemo), there are more side effects, including fatigue, constipation and nausea. I feel like I am constantly trying to find the right balance. Take something to deal with the one thing but not too much otherwise it could cause constitpation and/or diarrhea and/or gas so then I have to take something else and so forth and so on. (Sorry for the graphic nature of this line of conversation but this is a blog about cancer.)
I did have one odd experience last month. I had difficulty breathing and a few other symptoms so I went to emergency. They did tests and ruled out pneumonia and a blood clot. A blood test showed that I had low hemoglobin so I had blood transfusion (my first). It feels odd to think bc of someone else’s blood circulating in my body but it worked. After a few days I felt much better.
So one of the challenges I had was that I was losing weight, due to the reflux. After years of thinking about losing weight, it’s odd to have to think about gaining weight. I switched to higher fat products and am making a conscious effort to eat consistently. I have gained a few pounds so I hope it continues.
Finally, there is a lovely article by a woman with MBC about how having MBC has prepared her to face the pandemic. She writes this incrediblly beautiful passage about grieving:
“Since my diagnosis, I have lost a lot and I have grieved a lot, over and over again. Loss, grief, assimilation. Repeat. With each cycle, different pieces of me are stripped away. Sometimes it’s physical — different breasts, a thrust off the cliff into early menopause, and the challenging side effects of never-ending cancer treatment. Then there are losses of identity and purpose, roles I have long played, or roles I thought I might play in a future I once found reliable. Living with metastatic cancer requires a persistent relationship to uncertainty, loss of control and the prospect of death.”
That is all for now. I hope that you and your loved ones are weathering the pandemic well (and in good health). It seems so long ago that this all started but the fundamentals are still good - wash your hands, cough into your elbow, don’t touch your face, maintain social distance and, if you can’t (or otherwise need to), wear a mask.
Deborah
