Well that was possibly the longest September ever. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am that it is finally October. October is not normally a month that I particularly look forward to but, for obvious reasons, this October couldn’t come quickly enough. And now here it is, at last, meaning there must be fewer than 11 days until the end of treatment.
After hearing me complain about how long, boring and empty my weekends have become through treatment, Rich very kindly surprised me yesterday with some tickets for the Saturday matinee of ‘The Girl on the Train’ at our local theatre. Unfortunately for Rich, he couldn’t join me because Saturday afternoons are filled with exciting tasks such as driving the girls to dance/gym/work, and since I spend my days in a morphine-induced haze, I am no longer safe to drive (frustrating, although I could certainly get used to being chauffeured!).
So I went to the theatre with my lovely friend Jules. It was such a treat to feel ‘normal’ again, although it did make me realise quite how far from normal I actually am at the moment. For a start, it was quite an effort to have to make an effort - I found it exhausting simply getting dressed into something other than one of my 5 stretch-neck t-shirts and putting on a minimal amount of make-up. I had to make sure I had taken all my meds so I wasn’t caught short. I was also slightly apprehensive about going out in public. The only place I venture to these days is the hospital, so the only people I interact with are the car drivers and the hospital staff. Feeling significantly under the weather doesn’t really lend itself to socialising - partly because I feel so awful, not just with pain but with all of the unpleasant side effects of all the drugs, and partly because I don’t really have very much to say (those who know me well know that this is a rare occurrence!). I go to treatment and I come home again, and that’s about all there is to my life currently. This also makes it all the more difficult to see people living normal lives while we go through such turmoil as a family.
Thankfully, Rich had bought matinee tickets which felt more manageable in terms of staying awake than an evening performance but, in the end, this earlier performance didn’t make any difference. I still spent most of it trying to stop myself falling asleep. Don’t get me wrong, the show itself was good, but it is mostly set in darkness and, coupled with my cocktail of strong medication, it was a real challenge to stop myself nodding off, despite sitting upright on a seat with no headrest. I tried eating some Haribo during the interval. They burned. I drank water to put out the fire. I persevered, thinking the sugar would be a good boost, but alas, it felt as though there were tiny weights glued to each of my eyelashes and I spent the second half trying to keep my eyes open. All in all, it was lovely to escape these four walls, but it did make me realise I’m probably not as ‘well’ as I think I am. I wasn’t capable of doing much when I got home, spent the evening on the sofa and slept for more than 10 hours that night. Who knew that being driven to a place where you sit down in darkness for 2 hours and then driven home again could be so exhausting?!
Today was slightly more mellow. A nice lie-in, a dog walk, family catch ups, some boring chores and I even attempted to eat a roast. It wasn't entirely successful; it all tasted so odd. It's difficult to describe. There is some taste, but it's not taste as I know it. I managed to eat some well-cooked carrot, and the Yorkshire was easy too, especially coated in gravy. The meat, roasties and kale were sadly all too difficult. One day, I will eat - and enjoy - these foods again, but for now they are off the menu. The food wasn't the main focus today though, because all day, in the back of my mind, I have been wishing the day away so I can get on with next week and get this whole lengthy, unpleasant treatment over with.
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