Today is the official start of the really bad days. Roger started to decline yesterday afternoon. Today is a full on crash from the chemo. Intense nausea with vomiting, lack of appetite, extreme fatigue, and pain. On top of all of these side effects, we also have to worry about chronic diarrhea. He is mighty thin....so all of these issues can be lethal if not controlled. Tomorrow should prove to be more of the same. He should slowly climb back out of the chemo hole Mon & Tues of this week. We are hoping the bad days are limited to the weekend and that he is able to enjoy the "down" time between treatments. There is nothing worse than feeling crappy for days on end, then feel better just in time to start chemo all over again.
The other dynamic that occurs throughout all of this is Roger's disposition fades and gets grumpier which causes my disposition to turn chirp-y-er. A combination that doesn't always work....Additionally as Roger eats and drinks less, I become somewhat obsessed reminding him he needs to try to eat/drink something to prevent dehydration and further malnutrition. I'm sure you can anticipate the reception. If looks could kill.... I know its all because he doesn't feel good....and remind myself of the same with the sting of the words or the looks. We both look forward to the good days!
Last week I was talking with Alice, a friend of mine who is a melanoma survivor. We were talking about the cancer experience and how each person handles it differently. She shared with me a story she had seen on TV about a female celebrity with breast cancer. Apparently while flying somewhere this celeb had a conversation with with a random stranger about her breast cancer. At the end of the conversation the stranger told the celeb "don't hoard your cancer experience." Apparently he got a lot out of the conversation and her experience.
So in that vein, I thought I'd share a strange and maybe a little unsettling experience we had. We went to breakfast the other day at a little neighborhood restaurant we have been to a couple times. Our waitress recognized us from a prior visit and started to chat it up with us. She noticed our yellow, Livestrong wristbands and asked about the meaning. We should have realized then our waitress was an inquisitive sort...with no apparent filter. She sweetly asked if Roger had cancer and if so, what kind/where. Again, very inquisitive. She then asked if he was in treatment and how it was going. To which Roger responded with a shake of the head sideways but no verbal response. She then asked yet another question which sucked the air out of the room. She asked, " Terminal?". Roger simply responded "we all are 'terminal'....none of us are going to live forever." Me? I sat there dumbfounded. Normally, I'm fiercely protective, never at a loss for words. At that moment, I sat frozen for an endless minute until the air came back into the room. She then shared that her mother worked at an oncology center and has for many years. All we could surmise is that maybe she had a greater familiarity with talking about cancer and must have felt comfortable talking to us. After the strangest, most surreal 5 minutes of conversation, she trotted off to get our breakfast. I can't say we were offended. I think the moment was more unreal than anything.
We will continue to share our experience the good, the strange and bizarre, and the humorous as they happen. Angie & Roger
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