He’s feeling very tired, his brain is woolly and he’s feeling pretty sick today. He’s limited in terms of what he can eat. The second day after chemo is usually his roughest.
I look around the kitchen at the ‘chemo’ food, the things we have in stock for when things start to taste metallic or he feels really sick. Last time with the RCVP he craved spinach and chips and drank fruit tea, Ovaltine and vanilla milk. This time is a bit different. A bit of live plain yoghurt seems to help the nausea and salty foods go down well; fish fingers and new potatoes figure on the menu quite often.
We’re both exhausted today after the recent long days at the hospital. The dog insists that we take him for a walk. He has enough energy for the three of us. Fresh air is a blessing but as soon as we get home we both need a rest. How lucky we are that we can do that.
Husband is very pragmatic, doing what he needs to do to get through treatment and planning what he wants to do with work. It means a lot to him that he’s been able to get through the 6 chemo treatments on time – job done for now.
The sickness lasted a good week this time. We had a long drive 3 days after the chemo (3 hours each way) and although we shared the drive, it took it out of him. He loves driving but admitted that it was harder than he’d expected. I suspect it lengthened his recovery a bit. But he’s recovered. He’s through the sickness and the worst of the fatigue. He does find that chemo brain is making mechanical practical tasks a bit difficult for him. That’s frustrating because he’s really good at such things but he’s being really good humoured and giving himself extra time for things.
I am emotionally exhausted. I’ve just been numb, focusing on getting through the day. I haven’t cried in so long that I’ve wondered what it would take. When we got back from our walk I felt like curling up in a ball, hiding under the duvet and crying. So I did. I curled up under the duvet and prayed as best I could between the tears, admitting that I can’t cope and asking for perspective. Best thing I’ve done in ages.
Time to raise a glass to what we hope will be a good remission. I’m not going to join him in his newfound love of tomato juice with Worcestershire sauce though!