I've been living in a disaffected fog. I'm willing the days to pass with as little pain, as little nausea, as little worry as possible. I went out to my car yesterday at work and just stared into space, feeling not much of anything. I tried to cry but couldn't. I tried to talk to someone - my dad, God, the universe, but felt no one there. I went back into work after housing a bagel - which settled my stomach, as only carbs have been doing - and spoke to no one. Just stared at my computer screen, willing 3:30 to turn into 5. In a work setting, or anywhere that anyone knows what's going on, it's hard trying to act like I'm okay, that I'm handling everything fine, that I'm still feeling positive. It's hard. It's all so much harder than I gave this disease credit for.
I have 9 days left until the last treatment. Let's say 16 days until I start to feel better after that. It's hard to imagine what it will be like. I read somewhere, someone describing how they feel after chemo: "like I'm buried in insecticide." That's how I feel. I forget how it feels to be enmeshed in my old interests, in my life. Running, working out, loving Mike to my best ability, writing, my dreams, even just carrying on normal conversation, none of it has been possible for some time now. I look at Facebook, at everyone's live's storming ahead, and I'm dumbfounded. What is that like? I can't even read. My mind wanders off...to no where good. I'm exhausted. Recurrence, death, sickness, loneliness, paranoia. That's what is on my brain, with short bouts of hope, or distraction, in between. I can't mask this. I'm having a terribly rough time. One left. Then I hope the fog lifts, and I can feel joy again. It will be indescribable, I think. It will be unlike anything I've ever experienced.
6 Comments
Megan Mahan
11/2/2016 07:18:45 pm
I think of you often and check in on here to catch up on your progress. I admire your strength and courage. Know you and your family are in my prayers. One more Nicki!!! You got this!!! ♡
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Nikki
11/3/2016 10:30:39 am
Megan, you're so sweet. Thank you for checking in on me, and for your prayers!! Be well and I often admire pictures of your beautiful family :)
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Pam
11/2/2016 11:45:15 pm
I had my last AC yesterday, which is my last chemo ever, if I'm lucky. I was where you are 2 doses ago. Each one was a little easier for me, and I had some joyful moments during this long, long shit-storm. It will pass. It will pass.
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Nikki
11/3/2016 10:29:16 am
Thank you Pam, it was so nice to wake up to this this morning. It does seem long, long. I hope you're continuing to feel well, and CONGRATS on your last AC!
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11/4/2016 07:41:24 pm
I agree with Megan; you have incredible strength and are very courageous. Next time your mind wanders just remember this: that your fight will lead to the death of this sickness, that you are surrounded by so much love from friends and family close and all over the US, and that paranoia, its got nothing on the hopes and prayers that surround you. And if that thought of reaccurence pops into your head just know you can come and stay with us here in CO, supposedly we have the best plant to cure it ;-)
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Nikki
11/5/2016 10:33:28 pm
Hi Meghan, thanks so much for your kind words and so nice to hear from you! Always wanted to go to CO :)
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