What really is going on?
When I first started my blog a friend said to me, “I love your blog but what really is going on?”
So here’s what’s really going on: You may recall this past spring I started on a new chemo drug called Enhertu. It is a wonder drug and my numbers are low. But every three weeks I have to do chemo.
And here’s the truth: I feel nervous, anxious and teary when I go in for Day One. But by the afternoon my body is pumped with chemo and thanks to the addition of a steroid, I feel pretty good. In fact, last week on Day One I had enough energy to buy a new cell phone, walk the dogs and roasted a chicken. And I responded to a couple of emails. I consider that a very successful day!
By Day 3-10 however, I crash and feel tired with a little bit of nausea and stomach pain. If you saw me, you may not know that I was in the worst of the chemo weeks. I still walk the dogs and do other things. However I tend to lean on Steve more. I get grumpy. I get sad. And I feel weak.
This summer I was in San Francisco where there was lots of fog and in Sugar Bowl where there was lots of sun. In August, I packed my bags and went to Iceland with my large extended family. Seeing the cousins and my kids laugh and party together was music to my soul. But summer was hard. I got my 10th, 11th and 12th treatment of Enhertu. I felt very much in the cogwheel of the chemo cycle.
The hardest part of doing this chemo which is different from the other chemos in the past is the mood swings I experience. Keeping busy and engaged with friends and family is the best medicine. I know about the art of staying present (don’t we all) but it is easier said than done.
What you might want to understand is that I’ve never been sick from cancer, just the treatment. And while Enhertu is keeping my numbers down, and my oncologist keeps telling me I am stable (which is what I should focus on) it is so easy to fall into the trap of being worried of being sick. I worry about the impact on my kids. I go to bed worried. I wake up worried. I literally start to future-trip. Some call that anticipatory grief, I just call it really hard.
And that, my friends, is what is really going on.
Love,
Jessica
