Friday, February 8, 2013

Coughing in the arms of Chemo Brian

Day 61

General status update 

Hair: quiescent 

Nausea demon: trying quite hard – I’ve been coughing so much that I start to retch. Lovely. 

Coughing Demon: Entirely unrelated to the chemo – I have perennially weak lungs, and my cold has fast-forwarded straight into bronchitis, leaving me coughing painfully all night, with almost no sleep, and unable to speak today, as speaking makes me cough. The Coughing Demon hasn’t been around for a while, but now he’s back and this time it feels very personal indeed. On the plus side, the fever has gone, I’m not neutropenic, and this will only send me back to the hospital if I cough myself into a serious asthma attack. This is not curable by antibiotics, as it’s asthmatic hyperactivity triggered by the respiratory virus which has been raging through my much-weakened body. I just have to use my inhaler, not speak, and wait for it to abate; if I’m still coughing by the time I have chemo next Wednesday, the steroids should help to knock it on the head. Those Dexys are great little multi-taskers. 

Chemo Muse: Even she can’t overcome complete physical debility, so she went off to get her highlights done. 

Chemo Brian: My brother, my saviour.

Fatigue/weakness: Yes .

Despair demon: paid a fleeting visit this morning, precipitating complete emotional meltdown after The Week from Hell, but R gave me a cuddle, and kicked him out. 

Sleep, lack of: Almost complete – I was coughing, and awake, for most of the night. 

Anxiety level (1-10): Hard to worry too much about cancer and chemo when you can’t stop coughing. 

State of mind: I am now the living embodiment of the phrase ‘siege mentality’; expecting plague of frogs anytime now.


I’m in very poor physical shape today: my cold has rushed straight to my lungs, and I’m coughing for England, an area in which I have considerable, and painful, previous form - the winters of my early years were punctuated by directives from MamaFo to 'stop making that AWFUL noise', and it is awful - imagine a very loud foghorn, booming across the salt marshes and frightening the seabirds into flight over the fog-blanketed sea.

 I’m very weak but not, happily, neutropenic, so it’s not dangerous, just a debilitating, horrible nuisance on top of all the other bad stuff that’s happened this week. 

I hope you’ll forgive me, then, for not writing a proper post today. I have spent much of the day on the sofa dozing in the arms of Chemo Brian, and will be returning there as soon as I have posted this. There’s nothing that can be done about the coughing – I just have to rest, remain mostly mute to spare my lungs, and wait for it to stop, which it will, in a couple of days.

It’s not all bad – R will be home soon, with the Friday Night Pizza, and I will amuse myself by attempting to communicate with him via mime. And there has been one good thing about this monumentally terrible week – there has been barely a moment to worry about the imminent arrival of FEC 4, next Wednesday.

As silver linings go, it’s not much, I know…

8 comments:

  1. Thank you , Glen, much appreciated - as has been all your support and good wishes since I started the blog. I don't always have the energy to reply, but every comment is much appreciated xx

    That applies to other commenters, too - please forgive me for not always replying, but it often takes all my energy just to get a blog post out each day, especially as I'm working on a very old, slow computer.

    But all your comments are read and greatly appreciated xx

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    1. Replies are not necessary on this blog, CarFo. Just focus of regaining your health and your return to swimming!

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  2. The tiniest positives are enough to get through one day at a time. x

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    1. Yes, that's so true. BTW, if that's Dee G, can I apologise now for not yet replying to your lovely message? It was very cheering... xx

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    2. A loud Geçmiş Olsun to you! Remember this is where we send all the positive vibes for healing to you.. replies not necessary...xx

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    3. I'm with Vicki, no reply necessary. I do hope however that you were able to appreciate the pizza, tastes and textures! And hats off to you for getting a bit of the blog out as well as just letting it go at that. Sometimes the intro really says it all anyhow.
      Hugs from a stormy Ayvalik where the thunder shook my house and the rain/lightening can stop the flow of power and water at the same time!

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  3. Buried in 25" (and continuing) of Boston snow, Manny and I took this opportunity to discuss our trip to Ayvalik this summer. I hope you are able to dream that far into the future...say, May 12-15 or thereabouts? We'll catch up when you're feeling up to it. So impressed with your progress thus far. And yes, every little bit IS progress. Love, Janet

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