My body has endured going on a hundred falls off horses, several nights shivering outside in Scandinavia when hitch-hiking failed, a bout of malaria in Zimbabwe, a sickly sweet teenage spell of overindulging in Bacardi breezers and our life’s proudest, most earth shatteringly amazing achievement, the birth of our two girls. Who I really do look at in awe every single day; even when Evie is wagging a squidgy toddler finger at me going ‘no no nooo mummy, I don’t like it’ and Isobel decides to wake happy as a clam at 4am for the day. Charming. Anyway, I digress. I was shocked when I was told my body had failed and I had cancer.
My chemo journey is giving back my admiration for my body and it’s endurance. I almost feel sorry for it, as the effects of the toxic chemo creep in, my body begins to fight. Usually I sleep at this point but last night sleep eluded me. Perhaps this is because Nick is away and Zola the cat is taking advantage, purring sweetly whilst sprawled out over three quarters of the bed. I sat on my little quarter of the bed in the dark stroking her furry belly and feeling the inevitable heaviness overcome me. I get hot, my stomach becomes uneasy and my limbs go slightly lead like. My body gets to work and by morning I tend to feel back in working order albeit with a chemo hangover. Thank you body, you are serving me well.
Yesterday during chemo, the lady next to me started to have seizures. It was heartbreaking watching her husband standing hopeless next to her twiddling his hands as the team of paramedics transported her out. That image stuck with me. It had less of an effect of my other chemo neighbour who was chowing down enthusiastically on his burger king. He seemed hungry. Quite surreal, I think we all develop of ways to cope. This is mine, maybe his is burgers and fries. I hope the lady is ok.
Chemo 6 down, fingers crossed 2 more to go!! Here’s my chemo 6 picture and the picture that brightened my day whilst being infused, Evie found my Clinique red lip balm. Ooo la la.