The sound of silence

I'm struggling.

It's been almost three weeks since my last chemo. I will have Herceptin #4/17 coming up this Friday.

I talked to a colleague on the phone this week and it really hit me that people will never understand what I went through. I know I've always realized this, but talking to her all of a sudden made it so clear and obvious. She is the sweetest person, but was completely clueless.

I think it made me feel so isolated and alienated from everybody else. During chemo I only had my family around me, a rare visitor every once in a while. But it was just my family who saw me at my worst. So how do you connect with people after going through something like this? I'm nervous for all those 'first time' conversations.

Life is so different for me now. I need to find balance and structure. A way to deal with everything that has happened. I am not the same person any more. I know that must be weird for other people. I understand it's hard talking to a 'sick' person as well. But I feel so alone in many ways. Cancer is like sitting on a freakin' deserted island. This is my worst nightmare and it goes in a bag pack that I have to carry with me for the rest of my life.

The only people who really get it are other people who have had or have cancer. It's good to have 'breast' friends.

So yeah it is hard for me to talk about everything that has happened. I think I'm really learning and experiencing what to tell to whom. This morning I read a quote on the Pinterest board as if it were meant to be:   

"Sometimes it’s better to keep silent than to tell others what you feel because it will only hurt you when you know they can hear you but they can’t understand."

Skeleton leaves

No words, no nothing

So my last chemo is a fact. I actually set up a post two days ago with all these numbers and facts. And then deleted it. I'm not really sure what to think or how I feel. That would explain my crazy internet shopping. I mean crazy over the top and not making sense kind of shopping. The last few weeks I've ordered new clothes, slippers, shoes, stack rings, bunny stationery and some other stuff I can't even remember. Just like that, out of the blue. Anything to keep me busy. It's a good thing I'm not seeing a therapist (yet).

I've also tried different things to distract me, like reading, meditation and scrap booking. But nothing seems to work. So chemo might be over but it doesn't feel like that at all. I still sit here on the couch, not feeling so great. No hair on my head. For the first time in six months I really really miss my hair. I also went outside for the first time again today. It was like a 5 minute walk and I felt like a 80 year old. I'm mostly sad and confused because of all the stuff that has happened. I have been crying a lot. I know it isn't over.

The results from the MUGA scan were pretty much the same as the echo. Which means we'll try the Herceptin again, followed by another echo. All I can hope for is that my ejection fraction will stay the same or go up a few percentages now that I'm done with chemo.

I know I will start to feel better and that I need to give it time (yes even or maybe especially the hair grow). The past six months were... well I'm not even going to try to describe them. Words won't do all the pain, suffering and fear any justice.

New colours

Oh these long haired hippie bunnies of mine are very high maintenance. But I love them. It's kind of sweet and funny taking care of their fur while I have no hair at all myself.

Now I'm exhausted. But I wanted to come here and write because after all, tomorrow is my last chemo. I still can't believe it actually. Number 8, finally.

November 9th 2012 I started with the AC treatment 4x every three weeks. February 1st 2013 I started my first Taxol/Herceptin, 4x every three weeks and I was suppose to finish on April 5th 2013.

As you could read in my previous posts, unfortunately after three treatments my ejection fraction dropped down to 53%. I did a MUGA scan last Tuesday and will have the results back next week.



So I will be finishing chemo, Taxol... but no Herceptin for me until... well until I talk to my oncologist next week.

So this is not exactly the way I was expecting to finish chemo. April 5th is a date that has been in my head since November. It's hard when things don't go as planned. I'm having a hard time letting go. I don't know what I'll do if they tell me I can't do the Herceptin at all. I really hope we're going to give it a try and that they keep monitoring me closely.

But for now let's focus on finishing that chemo chapter. It's scary. I know the story will continue. But I also hope there will be some light at the end of this chemo drug hole tunnel. It's very emotional. Because I've been through so much. Now comes the time I'm probably going to realize it.

May number 8, the last one, be gentle with me.