cancer – day 77
10AM
The pharmacy company brought my chemo drugs this morning, a whole box full. And these aren’t chemo drugs for the hospital, these are just the drugs for us to administer at home to counter the side effects and stuff. Ugh, eight different medicines, all with different instructions, timing, etc., uff da. Glad I’m not going to be trying to keep track of all this on my own.
1PM
All the cancer stuff tells you to expect the patient to be moody. But what does that mean exactly?
How do you know if it’s just moodiness versus something actually being wrong? I don’t know if I’m being moody or not, but little things definitely bother me but not all the time, and I can’t remember enough of what I was like before to know if the same things would have bothered me pre-cancer or not. It worries me. My dad told me once about a friend of his whose wife had cancer and after all her treatment (chemo in particular) the guy told dad she was never the same again. Given that he didn’t give my dad any other details; I’m assuming the change was not in a good way.
So what if I’m changing to be “less good” as a person because I can’t manage the moodiness? I feel like I’m supposed to cover it up and pretend I’m fine, that nothing is bothering me. At least for other people, like when we carpool for milongas, which Mark always wants to do. It’s such an energy drain for me, I have to learn how to be “on” without giving away all my energy to the other person(s).
4PM
Oh boy, Mark just found out his office move in Phoenix (which they made him the manager of, like, yesterday) is going to be on the 1st of August, and he’s supposed to be gone a WEEK for that, right in the middle of my first chemo treatment cycle and through my day 10 blood draw at the infusion center.
Uff da, like things aren’t complicated enough. A full week including the weekend, not just a Mon-Fri business week thing, he says he has to work there on Saturday setting up the new phone system. And the first thought was, well, then I should go with him, but there are all these risks to my health that way . . . the whole wear-a-mask-on-the-airplane thing, worrying about catching anything from other people or Mark catching anything from other people, worrying about having just come off my heart medication and not having adjusted to not having it yet, traveling when I may be severely fatigued . . . But what if I stay home? I don’t want someone else taking care of me for days and days; it’s too much to ask. And where would I stay? i would just want to go home to my own house out in Volcanoville if Mark’s not here. But if someone’s not with me and something happens, how will I take care of myself? That could be tough. But what if I’m fine, like, totally fine, through the entire first chemo cycle? Then I’ll feel terrible about anything that goes wrong with the company’s move because of Mark trying to cut his trip short or something because of me.
Feels like I’m back to square one figuring out how to do this on my own . . . I know that’s not actually true and something will work out, but it still feels that way.