Da Funk

I've been floundering recently. Almost three years of being ill in bed has taken a huge toll on my body and my psyche. I've gone through a long cycle of fear, anger, hope, and an endless waiting for things to get better. I started out with a very solid belief that I would be fine. But after 3 years in my bed and struggling to get through every day I eventually wondered, will I get better? No doctor would say.

The prednisone and all my other drugs have made me so ill. My strong band of hope that I would see the end of this has grown thinner and thinner until it was only a battered thread.

This whole cancer dealy was only supposed to be a bump in the road of my life. One day I would wistfully look back at it, throw my head back and laugh in a conquering sort of tone. Now I know I will never be the same. I realize it's been said a hundred times over by a hundred different people in a hundred different contexts, but it's new to me. I will never be the same.

Sadness has crept in. Frustration has seeped into every inner corner of my being. With it came listlessness and apathy. Pain, medication, severe sleep and fatigue issues have clouded my brain making it feel like it's stuffed with cotton.

I feel like all the control I've had over my life has been taken away from me. My body has become my betrayer.

I felt a little like putting my head in the oven.


Perfect :) I find being severely at the bottom a real catalyst for change. There is no place to go but up. I've decided to kick this suck hole despondency.

I made a plan. Despite all the things I struggle to get done every day, I am going to come first. I took myself straight to the doctor and to a Cancer Agency counsellor as well as a massage therapist. The doctor made a priority of sorting out my lack of sleep. The Amtitriptoline made me so much worse. I tried it for about 5 days but after a midnight online shopping spree I had no recollection of, I went back to the Dr and stopped taking it. The upside of that is I have been receiving nice little "presents" in the mail for the last two weeks. My GP upped my current sleeping meds which don't give me any trouble. I've also been off my main tormentor (prednisone) for 4 months.

Getting a better sleep has made me feel a bit better which in turn has enabled me to do a little more. I've been forcing myself to go twice a week to my arthritic waterfit class. No matter how suckathetic I feel, I go. When a friend asks me to go for a walk on the beach at an unGodly hour, I say, Yes. I was asked to go to a salsa dancing class. I said, Yes, and went but was only able to sit and watch. At least I walked up the stairs. In short I am stretching my boundaries and if I suffer after, at least I know I tried.


I hurt, I feel awful, my body is protesting but I feel hopeful again. I have goals again. I feel like I have some control in my life again. My body is my goal. It's not my betrayer, it is a part of me that has had a hard time and deserves a little compassion.

If I'm not going to save me, who will?

Daydream

Little Yellow Pill

I felt a lot better today. I don't think I feel any better than I did 3 days ago, before the amtitryptoline. The first 2 days on this I wasn't able to wake up fully, or get out of bed when I tried to. I also felt completely wacked out until 3:30 in the afternoon. I didn't think I should drive and probably shouldn't be posting under the influence.

A friend of mine had to use it once and she had good results with it. I'm not so sure about me.

Today I was able to get up at 10:30 and was able to go on with my day. I guess I'll see how things go.

Amitriptyline Ass Kicking

Well, I've been taking the steps to get myself out of this bone marrow transplanted, DNA switched funk. I've gone to see my GP, been going faithfully to my waterfit class, am seeing a Cancer Agency counsellor and have been trying to be a wee bit more social and have been prescribed more DRUGS. What can I say? I'm a bit of a keener when I think something needs to be tackled. I'm also so freak'n sick of drugs, it's not funny. Now I have little yellow bundles of fan-fucking fantastic delight to add to my arsenal of medicinal bliss.

Just as recently as a few years ago I was a bit of a closeted purist when it came to putting weird things in my body. I never tried smoking and I never touched drugs. Some in highschool may have called me square. It sucks to be them...
but then again I guess now it sucks to be me.

After diagnosis it seems the floodgates have been burst open and the pink elephants have arrived in full fanfare. I was the girl sitting in her hospital bed questioning every pill that came my way. What is this? What is it for? What does it do? What side effects will it have? Do I have to take it? Are you sure I have to take it....really? I was a royal pain in the ass. I did this for quite some time before I realized that they were doing what they had to do for me and I couldn't question every drug they gave to me because it would eventually drive someone mad (probably them).

Next I was the girl with the button for a morphine drip that I refused to press. I had lousy side effects and begged to be put on something else. Then after the something else was worse, (hello big satanic green gorilla with red eyes outside my hospital bed window and flaming green chandeliers on the wall), I begged to be put back on the morphine (hello not knowing which was dream or reality and seeing people who weren't there).

Later I was the woman writhing in pain and begging for the intravenous morphine. At those special points the nurses would actually run to get it. Now I'm the woman who does what she is told and takes the godamned meds. This new one, though, is not agreeing with me. Hell, it's kicking my ass all over the place. The intent of the amitriptyline is to help me to get back into a normal sleeping cycle and to improve the quality of my life.

So far I feel much worse. I guess I'll be giving my GP a call in the morning.