I’m excited to be joining my fellow bloggers on another blog-hop. Previously we’ve written about how we were affected by the Pandemic, Reality vs. Hype, and Bingeworthy programming. This time, I have no idea what to write about.
No. Seriously. That’s the point. We’re supposed to dig down deep and admit to knowing nothing about…some…thing.
Should be simple, right? But for me, it’s a struggle. It’s not that I think I know everything. Not at all. I’ve occupied my little space on this Earth for nearly half a century and my lack of knowledge is embarrassingly evident. But it’s not something I’ve ever felt compelled to dwell on. Until now. Thanks a lot, Deb.
I guess I’m going to take things to what seems like a dark place, but I’m going to be lighthearted about it, so it’ll be OK.
I’m currently undergoing Chemo and Immunotherapy treatments for Endometrial and Ovarian Cancer, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Each day is a new surprise…either a new side effect I wasn’t expecting, or just the inability to function at all beyond sitting upright in my favorite chair.
Upon my diagnosis, my care team presented me with a binder of info. I’ve read the binder. I can tell it’s meant to be useful, but for someone like me, who always has at least one follow-up question, it’s just a choose your own adventure book with all options leading to THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. THE CANCER DIDN’T KILL YOU BUT THIS RANDOM SYMPTOM MOST DEFINITELY WILL.
There should be a binder for the average cancer patient and a binder for patients with anxiety – that’s me. Each page of the latter should include soothing images and reminders to calm down and breathe deeply.
Here’s a fun tidbit that wasn’t addressed in the binder:
One of the chemotherapy drugs I’m being treated with occurs naturally in Hazelnuts.
If I eat hazelnuts, my face and tongue get all tingly and weird.
On day 7 after both treatments I’ve received, my face and tongue have gotten all tingly and weird.
On day 9 after the first treatment, I broke out in hives all over my body including inside my cheeks, AND my lips and left hand puffed up like one of McCoy’s experiments gone awry.
Everything I’m reading tells me I may have never actually been allergic to Hazelnuts, but rather this substance they’re now pumping directly into my blood stream every three weeks. Great!
My care team was stumped because my reactions were happening so far out from treatment, but this round, I took allergy meds the day the tingling started and never got hives or puffiness. I have no clue if it was coincidence or a necessity, but I’m going to keep doing it with each treatment from here on out.
Another surprise for me was hats. Both my care team and the binder made it clear I would lose my hair, and it is actively happening. So now, anytime there’s a chance I’ll be seen by anyone besides my husband, I’m compelled to cover my dome.
I’ve been gifted some adorable hats by family members, and I ordered some slouchy beanies of my own. But every time I wear any of them for more than a few minutes, I get dizzy and uncomfortable. Why is this happening? I have no clue. I’ve had pressure headaches from headbands before, but hats, apart from one, have never been an issue. The hat in question is a huge sun hat. I just assumed it was too heavy. But maybe my head just hates all hats and didn’t make its opinion known until it lost the buffer of hair.
People that love and care about me might want to cut out before I make this last admission of cluelessness…
I don’t know if any of this is going to work.
None of us do. That’s the terrifying truth about Cancer. You get the diagnosis. You jump through all the uncomfortable hoops. And then you just cross your fingers and hope for the best. But if you think about it, the same is true anytime we get into a car, or (apparently now) shop at an outlet mall. Tomorrow is never guaranteed to any of us. Cancer or no Cancer.
Which makes the lessons I used to wrap up my post pandemic blog still so very relevant. So I’ll share them again:
- Remain calm
- Remain informed
- Detoxify when needed
- Love fiercely
- Give thanks
Be sure to stop by these other blogs this week to see more cluelessness on display!
Jami: http://jamideise.blogspot.com/
The O Life 
Oh, Kerrie 😦 I’m so glad you could blog with us even when you are going through all of this. Sitting upright in the comfy chair sounds like a huge accomplishment right now.
But, no seriously, you tell them you’re allergic to hazelnuts and then they’re surprised you have a reaction to a component of hazelnuts? Who’s really the clueless one in that story?
You are so right that tomorrow is never guaranteed. It really shouldn’t be so unsafe to go to outlet malls (or schools…), but maybe that car thing is hard to avoid.
Your pandemic, post-cancer list is wonderful.
Thank you my friend!
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