I've heard on several occasions that the time immediately following chemo can be difficult. Difficult to go back to work. Difficult to continue to have post-chemo ailments that can't be seen. Difficult to figure out what life looks like post cancer. So difficult that I've heard reports of people having post-chemo depression. I'm going to get right on that depression as soon as there's enough room in my head to feel anything more than pure joy that I don't feel like ... pardon me ..... crap!
These reports of depression have actually puzzled me for the past couple months. The benefit of having cancer is to be able to live like you were dying. Isn't it? (um ... come on guys ... that's a reference to a county song) You now have permission to take risks and make sweeping changes. Not like cleaning out your closet (I've always wanted to "want" to do that), but more like selling your house and taking a boat to Fiji. Alright alright ... I know... I just want an excuse to travel.
What I'm *starting* to understand is that the last eight (yes eight) months was difficult ... perhaps you could even say traumatic. The PFT or Pulmonary Function Tests alone (those are the phone booth tests where you breath into a tube while in a small enclosure. Easy for 99% of the planet, but my .... worst nightmare. No no... I wouldn't exaggerate.) are the definition of traumatic. They should at least label them accurately -- the FTN would be much more to the point -- the Find a Therapist Now Test. Then there was the root canal of the back (aka - the bone marrow test), two surgeries, several CTs and PET scans, and a whole bunch of chemo. oh yeah ... the hair loss. and last but not least... the looming cloud that the cancer could come back.
When the time came to choose (yes choose) to go through the battery of testing and chemo, I just did it. My body pumped itself up and off we went. But, looking back, I keep thinking .... WHAT!#%$! ...that was nuts.
So... to sum this blog entry up:
1. Post-chemo can be difficult
2. My head is too small to contain anything other than the joy of not feeling like poop.
3. PFT tests (aka. FTN tests) suck.
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Hey, Kari. Haven't commented in a bit so thought I would just give you a quick shout-out. Sounds like things are going in the right direction for you which is great! On the mental health front, I think it does take quite a few months to process through everything. As you've said, you just went through a pretty intense war. After the victory of completing chemo, I think it does take a while to process everything. Joy, anxiety, anger, fear, sadness - I felt all of these in the months following the completion of my initial round of treatments. For me, taking things day by day was still a good approach. Enjoy feeling better, getting your hair back (mine took about 2 months before it really starting growing back in), having time with your family, etc. Every once in a while I'd go through a period of introspection - fear about a recurrence of the disease, anger at the whole thing, etc. So just keep processing and things will continue to get better!
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