Being me in the world
This weekend was about busy-ness and running between the market at church and 55 and home – amongst other things. It was about doing and moving and sorting.
Above all, it was about giving. And helping.
I spent half of the weekend feeling horribly nauseous and struggling with a sore stomach. I also have more ulcers in my mouth. I also spent half the weekend too busy to really think about being sick all the time.
A good weekend.
It’s amazing how many people, either who know me, or who I meet, when they find out about the chemo, say that I am looking good, or am doing well. It makes me wonder how other people who do chemo look, behave and feel.
I suppose it’s another of those ‘how long is a piece of string’ things: everyone is different and the way someone will react to things will depend on the amount of chemo, the frequency, the extent of the cancer in the first place – and, quite simply, the individual’s reaction to the chemo and the side effects.
It’s nice to hear that people think I am doing well, though.
Again, I just think I’m being me.
In fact, I spend a lot of time feeling ineffectual and wishing that I could be more like myself. I am just simply tired of feeling sick and being incapacitated for what seems like a concept and not a reality half the time.
I am also very aware of the need to be sensible about what I do and where I end up – simply because I have absolutely no intention of really getting sick(er) and having to deal with all the fallout.
Like today, when the storm that had been building the whole day finally hit the park at the end of the market, I stood dutifully under shelter while the girls rushed around sorting things out and getting wet, just so that I wouldn’t be at risk of getting a cold or anything.
Being a wus? Being eminently sensible? Whichever, both mean that I will stay as healthy as I can and only have to deal with thrombosing veins, nausea and the like, without having to worry about straining my op wound, or a little thing like a sniffle.
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