Wednesday, 6 February 2008

Some Fantasies Are Better Left As Fantasies



Not many people know this about me but in the past two years I have wished for someone to sneak in my room and blow my brains out.

Chemotheraphy has helped me tremendously but I am not going to pretend that it has been easy.  When I first started, it wasn't too bad, all I had was the shakes, flue like symptoms and aching bones.  

People who know me know that for me to throw-up is a traumatic event. My routine is to #1  lay around holding my stomach and moan; #2 stand by the toilet holding my stomach and moan; #3 stand by the toilet and stomp my feet while saying "God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God." #4 is screaming for someone to bring me a pail (usually Nadalene). #5 sit on the toilet with the pail in front of me and throw-up.  While throwing up I scream for someone (Nadalene again) to bring me water, a cloth, a new pyjama and while they are at it change the throw-up pail and for Pete's sake turn down the heat.

Okay, so you can see what is coming.  I started throwing up.  I took many pills to stop throwing up, but after a while taking the pills gave me the shakes and made me want to throw up.  Isn't it funny what you can get use too.  Eventually, even though I still did my steps from #1 to #5, I got to the point where I would just come downstairs and continue carrying on a conversation, gag a bit more and continue where I left off.  

I feel that I could have been okay if all I did was throw-up.  Worse was to come, so I was not okay.

I developed by my fourth chemo what I would call chemo gut.  I would just try to sleep and wished that the medical profession could slip me into a coma for the first 3 days of my treatment.  As I had chemo every 7 days this seemed like a lot of suffering.  In the end I was sick 7 days of the 7 and it was unbearable.  But I knew I could still do it.  I had to do it.

This is when I would tell my dear friends Jill, Helen, Angie and Darlene that I wished I was dead.  They totally understood because they have cancer too.  

Every day I would dream/fantasize that a person would come when I was having my afternoon nap and blow my brains out.  I didn't want to see the person because I didn't want to be frightened, I just wanted them to come in the house, float up the stairs, and when I had my face turned to the wall pull the trigger. In this fantasy it was extremely important that they
didn't scare me.

I am writing this blog so obviously there was no person, no gun, and no shot to the head.  How happy am I now that this never happened.  I am ecstatic.  I am off of chemo for now and life is good.  I know I will be on it again some day and I know I will come out of the other side of it again.  It is not easy.  But it can and has to be done for I have a family I love and I don't want to leave them.  Choose life.
 

4 comments:

Daria said...

My experience doesn't seem to be as traumatic as yours appears to have been. Yours was really tough.

I have said numerous times ... if only I could sleep through that whole weekend. In fact my December dosage of chemo was higher and the best part of that is that I slept most of the weekend away. That is the closes to death I have ever experienced so far.

During this time, I do think things like ... when will it just take me and let's just get it over with ... I don't need anymore torture and really I don't care if I live or die. I feel apathy like ... I could care less, just take my life.

One the flip side, my anger is extremely high during this time. Like if someone says something stupid or not ... I just loose it.

It's like I'm dealing with this and you want what?

The best thing for me during these moody spells is to be alone and quiet ... that way things don't flare up. I'm not sure I'd be able to control my emotions should something get me going.

Thanks for sending me to this post.

Bella Sinclair said...

Absolutely, choose life.

I won't even pretend to know how awful chemo is. Oh my gosh, I'm sure it's absolute hell. But you went through it, and you came out the other side. And now you know just how tough and resilient you are. Sometimes you have to go through the really really crappy parts to appreciate all the wonderful. So when you asked if it made sense that wading through the emotional muck helped you, yes, it makes complete sense. I get it, through and through.

I am fuming mad that someone as incredible and life-changing as you can be made to suffer so much. The only light I can see is that, had it not been for cancer, I wonder if I would ever have met you. I wonder if you still would have blogged. I wonder if you would have had the courage to be so brutally honest and generous with your love. You know what amazes me? The fact that you have one comment here, and my oh my, look how your followers and admirers have grown. You're something special, there's no doubt. Something about the way you reach out to people and open their hearts resonates with so many. Had your fantasy come true, look at all the people who would have missed out on the wonderfulness that is you.

Sometimes I wonder about how I will leave this earth. I'm not afraid to die. I'm just afraid of the pain. So would I choose to die suddenly, or would I choose to die inch by inch? Well, watching the love around you grow, seeing how much of yourself you still have to give, I'd have to choose inch by inch.

Pattee said...

I know many people that have gone through chemo and have the exact same feeling...

I also have friends that have serious autoimmune diseases that wish they could have chemo....

God ~ life sometime seems so f***ing unfair..

SOrry for my French but I don't speak French : )

Deborah said...

Wow. I have to agree with Bella. Every. Single. Word.