Category Archives: Treatment

Happy distractions

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

Today was a nice day. It’s so good to know that chemo doesn’t suck forever. Okay, my energy is low as a limbo pole – but the nausea has taken a hike.


A tricky side effect of treatment that I don’t often heard mentioned is depression. It’s incredibly easy to sulk, dwell and recollect while sick – and that nearly always triggers the nausea. BUT if Zsolt comes in and talks about the European Swimming Championship (Hungarians have done well), or recollects how we met, or talk about anything that is not cancer linked – I forget about bad feelings. The depression lifts with happy distractions.

And today was a happy distraction. Plus, I had more energy – and as my mom points out, it’s far easier to feel good when you have a little energy. Here is a list of the distractions which have made my day far better.

Reading. Not a novel (I cannot handle novels right now)  but excerpts from friends. We share our work and give opinions. Choosing to write can be lonely, which is why I think creative writing groups/classes/seminars/workshops are fantastic. Maybe you don’t need to relearn plotting a novel, controlling pace, or developing characters – but you probably do need a dose of perspective and like mindedness. I’ve made good friends through my writing, and it’s making a positive difference in my life. So yes, reading was a wonderful distraction.

Talking to my mother. What the hey – skype is awesome. Today I shared a cup of tea with my mom, Marcelle, and following that we shared lunch with Zsolt. Topics of discussion ranged from supplements, cleaning the house, Ice Road Truckers, and how to find Microsoft Word through the start button.

Chatting with the Dan Man. My little brother is cool; aren’t you, Daniel? Today out of the blue he rang me on skype and we talk for a little while. Nothing cancer related allowed. Instead we chatted about investments (of which I have none and he has several), holidays, university, and just random unimportant stuff. You know what, unimportant stuff makes for the best distractions. It is important to share the unimportant. Man, I miss my family so much sometimes.

Hanging with the Sámsons.  Today was nice; I had the energy to enjoy company. Zsolt’s family are staying at our friends’ home, and on that street you need a permit to park. So, instead of buying a yearlong permit for a weeklong visit, they are parking in front of our flat. Therefore, we saw them strolling down the street this afternoon toward our apartment. And why did we see them? Because I was outside (this is a big challenge, but today I triumphed for about 10 minutes). It was really nice to have them over and talk. Zsolt’s father was trying to teach me Hungarian for “emergency lighting” (vészvillogó) and “car handbook” (autós kézikönyv), Anna washed the dishes, Anita made pasta, and Berci searched the internet. During the past few days I’ve been exhausted, but today I managed to be social. Mind you, I had to take micro naps between conversations, but at least I rested in my chair and didn’t have to hit the bed.

Miért tanított engem László magyar autós kifejezésekre?

. . . Because today we bought a car! Wooohoo! 2003 Peugeot, silver blue. Now some people may say – ‘How many miles?’ ‘What’s the make?’ or ‘How does she run?’ But not me. All I need to know: Is the colour pretty? And it is. But Zsolt is satisfied too; he actually did manage to bargain slightly, which impresses me incredibly, and I think we’ll be happy with the purchase. It needs to be cleaned inside, and the front left tire is a bit off – but that’s why he bargained in the first place, so it’s a cost we can cover. This is our first car.  Exciting!

Now we just need to buy the insurance, and that is not quite as exciting. However, I look forward to driving around town with my man, hanging an arm out the window, and listening to some BBC radio.

So it was a day of happy distractions. The exhaustion is still there, but now passes in waves. This is the other side of the coin that I wait for. . . this is what enables me to go back again. For now it only gets better. Thank goodness for that.

PS- thanks to Zsolt for the Hungarian translation. If you want to translate the phrases yourself, I suggest google translate.

And breath out.

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

I’d like to draw you a picture, but it will have to wait. As I type this I’m trying to avoid staring at the screen, because there is something about computers after chemo that feels repulsive.

This treatment was better. They prescribed me a stronger anti-vomiting drug, and it made a difference. Now, that isn’t to say it was a walk in the park. While this drug stops the vomiting, it definitely doesn’t stop the nausea. However – the more I could keep in, the more my body had to work with. And today, Monday, the nausea is passing.

This treatment was different. Instead of my mom and Zsolt pacing the floor, it was Zsolt and his parents keeping watch. I feel for the carers of people who are ill. It must be a lot on your shoulders – but I have to say, as a person currently on the other side, there are not enough words to express the gratitude. A hard situation becomes so much easier with a few kind words, a few moments of attention – Zsolt has been absolutely incredible this weekend, and having his family near has helped him cope with the heavy load. I’m very grateful.

Now is the boring part of chemotherapy. Boring because there is little to do but recover (though I’ll take boring over sick any day). An exception worth mentioning: I have been playing a Hungarian card game with Anna and Anita, and that was actually quite fun. Too bad one hand of cards leaves me exhausted, but it won’t last forever.

The tricky thing, which I’m doing my best with, is now the hair. Zsolt kindly lent me his black fleece to wear over the weekend, and the back is covered with strands. I haven’t reached the point of shaving, but we’ll see. Once it’s gone, it will be gone – I can already imagine the mixture of relief and regret. But I think there is no harm in waiting a little longer.

Ok, summarize. I am doing okay. The weekend wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t a nightmare either. The next two weeks are mine and not cancer’s; I’ll be doing my best to enjoy them thoroughly. Also, as an aside, we are on the brink of buying a car. This will be our very first car – it’s a purchase to remember. Zsolt is trying to strike a deal as I type. Good thoughts for my bargaining man!

Ding ding! Round two.

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

Tomorrow is another round of chemotherapy. Today was another visit to the oncologist.

After getting my weight and blood taken (as she draws the blood, Zsolt and I count to fifty – though today we only made it to about 22), we visit with the oncologist. Every time I’ve gone, I’ve met a different doctor. Zsolt and I have a theory that the medical community would prefer to avoid emotional attachments. So, if I always have a different nurse/doctor distance is easier to maintain. It’s understandable; in my note taking job we are strongly discouraged from becoming friends with our students . . . something about a student taking things too far once with a note taker. Whatever. My stalking career once consisted of following cute boys around the mall with friends, but that was about 16 years ago. (Holy getting older, Batman)

Anyhow, we met with a lovely young doctor with excellent blond hair. She welcomed us into the room, Zsolt and I took our seats, and then she asked how the last chemo session went.

“Worst weekend ever,” might have been a reply – but I guess there are worse weekends, considering all the possible bad weekends that exist. So instead I said, “no good,” which seems a reasonable response. We explained the vomiting and the nausea and the general weakness.

Good news is that apart from the sickness, my experience was normal. I was wiped out, I recovered: normal. More good news is that she’ll be prescribing me stronger stuff for tomorrow, and if these drugs do their job she’ll be my favourite oncologist ever.

So last session was a learning experience; not just for us, but for the doctors too. Tomorrow will, hopefully, be less of an education.

You know how pets behave around the vet? My old golden retriever (sweetest dog ever) was a big coward whenever she realized where we’d arrived. I think animals can smell the fear. Well thankfully I can’t smell people’s fear, but I do remember my last chemo experience. Unlike my dog, I don’t need to be dragged through the sliding glass doors . . . but like her, I may be shaking – just a little bit.

Tomorrow will be better, one way or another. And then I can forget that initial impression. Time for bed, and tomorrow – time to get on with it!