Pre-Chemo Blues

Years ago, my job was to travel around the country training hospitals, Doctor's offices, colleges, fitness clubs, and anyone who wanted a pulmonary function or cardiopulmonary stress machine how to use my product.  I was a trainer for the products I currently support at home. So, 5 days a week I was in and out of airports, offices, etc, always traveling and training.  I was able to keep this up for about 3 years before I was totally burned out on travel.  I saw some kick ass parts of the country, and some scary places as well.

Some days, I miss it.  I miss feeling like a jet settings adult, dressing like a professional, educating people how to properly use medical equipment.  Some days, I miss the travel.  I know Jeff and I both miss all the Delta and Hilton points I had acquired allowing us to take some awesome trips.  Once, I stopped traveling weekly, I developed an odd condition.

I don't know if it has a formal name, but now my friend Scott and I refer to it as travel anxiety.  Where you worry about travel the days leading up to leaving.  Work travel is no longer fun.  It brings me major anxiety, especially now with the kids.  Is laundry done? Does everyone know their sports schedules? Does anyone know the song to sing to CC if she had issues?!  Is Jeff going to let them live on McDonald's all week? Some worries are serious, others are nonsensical.  Obviously with my issues, I have missed a few travel trips.

I would say I now have chemo anxiety.  

I feel so good right now.  Like really good. I am on top of things, my brain seems to be back in normal functioning order.  I am able to concentrate on work and I can parent properly. I feel so good, I really just want to skip chemo so I can continue to feel good. I am kind of pissed that it's coming up.  It really, really sucks.  I feel like an angry teenager. Or like on Sunday night when you know Monday is the next day and you have to return to work.  I am dreading chemo, like I dread some Mondays.  It's a necessary evil.

I don't want to take my steroids tomorrow.  They make me angry and mean, hungry and fluffy.  I do not want to feel those things.

I don't want to sit for 5 hours while poison pours into me.  It makes me itch, it makes me tired, and bitchy, and cranky, exhausted, and pissy, and it makes my mouth hurt, and makes me spiral down to just feel super bad.  The thought of chemo makes me write grammatically incorrect sentence structure.  Major run-on sentences with lots of "ands" in them. Chemo and steroids will make yell at the kids, Jeff, or anyone in my area; it makes my temper very short. I get mean. I hate what it does to me.

I don't want that nuelasta shot.  It makes my bones hurt and I feel 100 years old.

I don't want do this BS any more.  I feel good; I want to keep feeling good. I don't want the spiral to start.  I just don't.  

So, yes, I have pre-chemo anxiety.

Like with travel anxiety, I will suck it up.  I will go on Thursday.  I have my game plan to try to make things NOT suck as much.  

This is just annoying; Cancer treatment is really just pissing me off.

But, I have to be thankful in this hell and cesspool known as cancer and chemo.  My cancer is treatable.  I should *only* have to deal with 6 chemos and 12 herceptins.  My cancer has a treatment plan, and it's one that works pretty well.  I know I was at least blessed with a *nice* cancer.  I can't complain.  I know too many people, in fact two last week, who passed away due to their asshole cancer (I'm not talking about Hollywood stars).  Their two different rare cancers that did NOT have a known treatment option. Two families are absolutely devastated due to the evil of cancer.  Cancer sucks on so many levels.  

Cancer devastates families, and here I am complaining.

Cancer sucks.

Chemo sucks.

But, I feel I cannot complain. I'm not dealing with the vomit until you weight 60 pounds chemo.  The demonic chemo of the past.  I dealing with nicer chemo.  Luckily, I have not had really bad chemo responses.  It's hard to look at the sunny side.  I just really want my cancer free life back.  I bet most cancer patients and families say the same damn thing.

I want my smile back - without a puffy face.

I want my hair back.

I want my waistline back.

I want my brain and weird thought process back.

I want my eyes back to normal so I can wear my contacts.

I want me back.

I want to not focus on the negative.  But, with chemo #5 knocking on my door and I feel so good, it's hard not to let the darkness in.

Cancer has brought me new very close friends.  It has brought a new appreciation for life, and family. It has brought me a new appreciation for all my friends and family that lift me up when I feel physically and mentally down.  Cancer has created this new version of Kim,  I know I will be changed forever by it.  I will never have "old" Kim back.  She is a memory.  I am different. Things will never be how they were prior to August 2015.  I am changed.  Jeff and the kids are changed.  

I guess change is okay.  But, cancer still sucks and I hate it.  

Vent over.  Time to get back to getting the house in order and creating play costumes for the kids.  Time to get back to my new normal.  Time to prepare for chemo 5.