Here I am back in bed, and doing okay. It is two days post chemo, and that is not enough time to recover my sense of self or independence. As in, I need to keep taking it easy. Thank goodness tomorrow is Family Day in Ontario, and I can avoid that tinge of work-guilt that tugs ever so slightly when calling in sick.
Truth be told, I’m not sure how the heck I’m going to cope with the upcoming head radiation. But there you go, one step at a time. This week I get the markers, next week we get started, the week after it continues – and then right at the end, time for more chemo.
My mother suggests I just focus on today. So I will. But I’m also having a hot flash as I write this down, and you know what that does to a lady’s mind.
I wonder if I’ll need to get new glasses, or if my eyes will go back to their normal vision?
The port is in, and so far so good. I’ve had warnings of not moving too much so that the stitches don’t burst, and other warnings that come when you are thin and getting a port embedded under your skin (as in, not as much padding as they would like, but I won’t go into why that isn’t a great thing. This port is going to work out.)
Today I am sleeping. Tomorrow may be easier. But still, no working allow yet.
P.S. It has really been a decent few days. Family has made this possible. As has having some big bursts of love, and great back-discomfort coping techniques. Plus, I’ve been watching Once Upon a Time like crazy, and pretending I’m the noble hero out there, leading my t-cells into battle and slaying all those cancer cells.