Side effects and the holiday blues

It took just over a month, but Dans hidden jotter is now officially Daans not-so-hidden jotter (badum tish). Thank you Instagram. I’m contemplating whether or not to write this post, on account of the blog being suggested to people I know in the real world, but I think I’ll carry on anyways. As the young people say on tiktok; if you know me in real life, no you don’t.

I was discharged from the hospital on 15th September, and I’m finally feeling some sort of reaction from the first chemo-sesh. The overarching side effect isn’t exactly one of the sexy ones however (I’m looking at you, hair loss) but rather just plain old fatigue. As well as laying down more than usual (which is saying something!), I was surprised to see how a normal and pleasant conversation earlier in the day left me tired and needing to rest my eyes.

Another by-product of the chemo is that I seem to be noticing other minute changes to my finely-tuned bodily equilibrium. This is definitely a dangerous road to go down I know, but so far I have noticed the following:

  • A tiredness (for lack of a better word) around my jaw and teeth. Don’t ask me how teeth can seem tired because I don’t have a clue.
  • The increased need to crack the bones in my fingers, as well as the faintest feeling of weakness in the bones of my hands.
  • A papery / tingly sensation at the ends of my fingertips.

Another unexpected complication over the last 2 days has been a sudden wave of sadness that seems to have washed over me. I haven’t felt the need to cry since I was first told of the possible lymphoma over a month ago, so I was quite surprised to find tears in my eyes whilst I showered this morning. For the rest of the day I felt like I could cry at any moment, and sure enough I did, especially when I sat down to pray and also when I was shown affection from my parents.

Annoyingly for me, I can’t quite decide whether the tears are just long overdue, whether they’re a product of the medication I’m on or because deep down I was missing the hospital, the routine and the people that I’d come to know over the last few weeks. I suspect that the sadness is due to a combination of all of the above, and I’d be lying if I said the last reason wasn’t weighing on my mind. There’s a tragic story of unrequited love buried in there somewhere but I won’t go into that.

I’m curious as to how my body will react further to the chemo that was given earlier this week. A part of me can’t help but look down at my hands and feel that this is the start of some deteriorating process, but despite the sheer grimness of that thought, I’m still feeling positive. Overall I’m glad to be home, I’m pleased that everything’s under way, I’m surrounded by family and I have future appointments planned at the hospital.

I’m also confident that a little time will be all that’s needed to heal whatever sadness remains.  

As always, signing off with peace and love