The big crash...

Sunday was pretty good overall, but Monday came the big crash. No, this time it wasn't simply the "I'm a tad more nauseous than yesterday and kinda tired" sort of crash I had experienced in the first two rounds of chemo. Let's just say my digestive tract got pretty messed up, which -- how do I say this delicately??? -- turned the usual "stop" situation into more of a "go" than I would like. The whole thing was irritating in so many ways, especially since I think it was partially caused by a dose of reglan I took when simple eating didn't quell the nausea as it usually does. Of course, the added irritation from this new digestive issue made my nausea worse, and didn't let me sleep much. Ugh.

So here was my Monday: I have barely slept, my whole body hurts, I'm having trouble drinking enough (particularly given the suddenly summery temperatures), and I'm generally feeling not so great. Yes, I know I'm whining. Thank you for bearing with me, though. 

I suppose the whole chemo thing is finally catching up with me a bit more. Was I just too lucky to get away so easy at first? But it seems wrong, as I am three quarters done with the AC part of my chemo cocktail, and this is hitting me just now. Is it that it is the cumulative effect of all those meds in my body? 

Well, since my natural inquisitiveness has apparently returned, I take it as a good sign that my vitals are once again rebounding. I've managed to eat some stuff tonight (thank you, Starman, for stopping by with some nourishment!) and also drink some more (yay ginger ale!). The house is gradually cooling down from the day's heat thanks to a bunch of fans. And DH just gave my aching shoulders a nice, soothing rub. So I'm finally starting to relax a bit and feel better. Today may have been rough, but tomorrow will be another -- and hopefully better -- day. 

As I felt myself sliding into today's big crash, I thought about how oddly cancer affects the speed of life, the pace at which we experience things. One the one hand, having cancer has really slowed down time for me. It is not just that I measure the rhythm of my life in chemo cycles for right now. The time-slowing I have experienced goes far beyond that: For the first time in a very long time, I have allowed myself the luxury to read a bunch of novels; to just watch the flowers grow; to bask as the joy of the dog chasing after his ball; to admire the orderliness of the vegetable garden; to really smell the roses. At the same time, however, the chemo has radically sped up the pace at which my body ages -- and I can definitely feel it. Did someone hit my fast forward button??? Do me a favor, and just hit "play" again!

Thus I live in my own surreal little universe, somehow outside of the normal time-space continuum in which the rest of the world resides. Here, time simultaneously passes both faster and more slowly. And in the midst of it, I sit here typing this entry, mustering the courage to face another day, and another battle. For I know that this war against cancer is far from over, but I trust that in the end I shall prevail.