15. Chemo Cycle 2 - Little Wins and Hard Lessons

By the second cycle of chemo I’d learned that strength doesn’t always look the way you expect it to. After the first few times of having needles put into my arms it became something that just had to be done. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but it was a necessary evil.

My two main concerns for each treatment were always the same. First, that my bloods would be ok, because if they weren’t treatment could be deferred. I didn’t want anything to delay the treatment. I wanted it to be done and over! Second, that my veins remain healthy, so I wouldn’t need a PICC line. I was adamant I didn’t want one.

Little Wins

Two really useful tips to help ensure a good vein were:

1. I should drink lots of water before treatment, and

2. keep my veins warm.

So on treatment days, on my way to Derry, I drank a lot of water and held a hot water bottle to my arm. The first time I did this I couldn’t believe it. When I went into the treatment room, I looked down at my arm and I had veins like Pop Eye! Delighted is an understatement of what I felt. On this journey it was the little wins that made a big difference.

Pop Eye

When we experience a trauma the body goes into fight or flight mode. The body responds the way the body responds, but I made a conscious decision to fight cancer. At that time, as far as I was concerned this cancer thing was a blip in my life. I would get through the treatment and I would move on.

Another coping mechanism is denial, where the brain doesn’t accept what is happening. At that time I knew I was in denial because I could talk about cancer too easily. It felt like I was talking about someone else. That detachment made it easier for me to cope, most of the time. However at times when the reality did hit me, I shut it down quickly. It was too hard to think about what was happening. I had to keep strong to get through the treatment.  

I’m not a big reader but a book was recommended to me, ‘Reconstruction: The new breast cancer guide that will boost your wellbeing and protect your physical and mental health post diagnosis’ by Rosamund Pike. Although it was full of useful information I could only flick through the pages of it for one evening as it created a heavy, anxious feeling in my head. I had only started chemo when I got this book and when I looked ahead to the section on radiotherapy I just couldn’t read it. It was all too much! It was then I decided I could only take each stage, one day at a time and most times it was only moments in a day. Looking ahead overwhelmed me.

One thing I read in this book, and on the internet, was that chemo side effects are cumulative. Well, that was something to look forward to, I thought sarcastically! The effects of the first treatment weren't awful, but they certainly weren’t great either. Again I decided not to think about it, rather just deal with what was here, now.

Learning To Listen

After my first chemo cycle, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do very much physically in the days following the second cycle. I started steroids on a Wednesday, I had chemo and Phesgo on a Thursday, always on a Thursday. The day after chemo I received a pelmeg injection and, as usual, I continued on steroids that I’d already been taking for two days. The Friday and Saturday following the treatment weren’t too bad, but, as you can imagine, with the amount of drugs in my system, the Sunday was a wipe out!

Although I wasn’t fit for anything on the Sunday, as I was fighting this and not giving into it, we decided to go to Rougey, Bundoran, for a walk. The plan was Paschal would walk Bella and I would do what I could, or sit on a bench and enjoy the view. I thought I could manage that.

We arrived to Rougey and started our little dander. There was a bench a very short distance from the car. When we reached it I knew I couldn’t go any further. I had to give in to the treatment! While Paschal and Bella headed off on their walk I sat on the bench with the intention of taking in the view. I sat thinking about how only a few years beforehand I was able run this route and now I couldn’t even make it to the start line. I was ok though, and accepted this was the result of chemo, and I told myself it would be short lived.

It was July and Rougey that day was so busy with holidaymakers. People walking around me, talking and laughing. The chatter of people was unbearable. I sat with my eyes closed to focus on the smell of the sea air and try to block everything else out. Within a short time it all became too much so I decided to make my way back to the car.

The walk back to the car was only a short distance to walk, but I thought I was never going to make it. When I got there, I got into the car, reclined the seat and fell fast asleep.  To put this into context I wasn't the type of person who slept in the middle of the day, in a busy place and in a car leaving the keys in the ignition with the doors unlocked. When Paschal and Bella returned I couldn’t wait to get home and into bed. That was the moment I realised I couldn’t beat the chemo. It was stronger than me. I had to stop fighting it and start listening to my body.

Food, or Lack Of It

Alongside learning that I needed to rest I also decided to stop fighting my inability to eat. I’d tried to make myself eat healthily, but this time round I couldn’t even force anything down. I made myself a ‘cancer busting soup’, a recipe I found online, filled with vegetables and flavour. I was very much looking forward to eating it with bread and butter. Surely, I could manage this simple food. I couldn’t. I couldn’t get any food into me. Everything felt sharp in my mouth and whilst my mouth wasn’t dry, if felt exceptionally dry. The irony for me was the thought of taking anti-sickness tablets made me want to throw up, however I did force them into me as I had to for the greater good.

By the following Wednesday, after the treatment, I knew I had to eat something. I had some Koka noodles, which did the trick, right then and there, they were the best thing I’d ever tasted. They were soft and had flavour…ding, ding, ding, I found a food I could eat. It wasn’t wholesome and nutritious, but it was food. I could survive this cancer thing!

Having found something I could eat and feeling hopeful, without thinking, I decided to make myself a healthy curry. This was not a good idea! Oh, it tasted good! But my gut couldn’t cope and yep, there we have it again, the evening was spent on the loo. The disappointment of having discovered something I could eat, but my system didn’t allow it. I succumbed to the realisation the only thing I could do was ride the wave of nausea and wait until it eased! The one thing that kept me going was knowing that everything I was going through would pass. Toward the end of the week I would go to bed thinking ‘tomorrow will be a better day’, sometimes it wasn’t, so I would say ‘ok then, tomorrow’. I’d read advice that people shouldn’t make any plan for their treatment until after their first cycle and they begin to understand the impact on the body. I’d go further and say don’t plan ahead at all, for anything, because the side effects for each cycle were different. Don’t buy in any food. Don’t assume you’ll feel better in 10 days. Don’t plan, because with each cycle you don’t know how you’ll feel.

During this cycle I also became increasingly worried about Bella. Overall she was fine, she’d happily go for walks and play, but she was refusing to eat. I was concerned that my illness was causing her stress. She’d come to live with us for a better life and instead got a sick old crock, who wasn’t as fully available to her as I wanted to be. Don’t get me wrong, I played with her when I could and gave her cuddles, but I wasn’t the person I wanted to be with her when we got her.

I phoned a local dog trainer, who was very understanding of what was going on. She asked if we wanted to give Bella up. That was never an option, no, I just wanted to be able to do right by her, but felt I was getting everything wrong. She gave me some tips to help with eating, and we agreed that she would visit to help us out further. I was very grateful to her. We followed the tips she gave us and within a very short time Bella began to eat. What a relief she was eating, at least one of us was managing food!

Treatment, it turns out, is not only for people!

While my body was learning its limits Bella was going through changes of her own too.

Very shortly after coming to live with us Bella went into heat. After talking to the vet we arranged for her to be spayed at a time that was safe for Bella and when I felt I’d have enough mental energy to cope. After her operation she wasn’t allowed walks, climb stairs or jump furniture for two weeks; a tall order for an active girl! She wasn’t allowed to do all the things she loved to. Poor Bella, she had just arrived to live with us, she had been in heat, I got cancer and now we were having her spayed. It was a lot. Interestingly when Bella came to live with us, getting her spayed was something that was recommended, so I read up on this. One of the reasons to get a dog spayed early on was to lower the risk of them developing mammary cancer later in life. I remember thinking I wanted to do what I could to make sure she didn’t get cancer. The irony of it all, as only a few weeks later I was diagnosed!

Those two weeks after her operation were long for us both. Bella was bored and frustrated. There was one minor scene of destruction in the kitchen, but overall she coped remarkably well. After her stitches were removed and she was cleared for walks again, Bella was full steam ahead and never looked back.

Trying to pass time!

Watching Bella recover over those weeks reminded me that healing isn’t linear, but it does happen. Chemo taught me that strength isn’t always about pushing through. Sometimes it’s about stopping, listening, resting and trusting that this moment, no matter how hard, will pass. Eventually it does!