Our little man is 7 today, Masha Allah.
Sitting among the mommies crosschecking with each other on progress of their kids at school, the peeing difficulties of one of the boys and undertaking a general survey of which hospital/doctor is best when it comes to treating flus, I felt a bit bored.
I ended up watching the mommies instead. Lovely women all of them. Hats off to all those with that job. I can only admire your energy.
My energy levels are pond-size compared your sea-size ones!
Back on Cancer Planet it is nausea and constipation and the occasional daze. To each his own I guess.
Happy Birthday Nanu. Love all of the you that was, is and will become Insha Allah. Just don't grow up too quickly.
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Friday, 29 April 2011
Chemo #3 - Thank you
I am really warming up to my onco or maybe he is warming up to me? Anyway, same thing.
IA by the end of my treatment, we'll be very friendly, if not totally buddy buddy :).
No, seriously, he was super nice. Asking about my breast, nausea, menses, weakness, constipation, etc. The icing on the cake was being spared the steriods!!! What a relief. On the other hand, he mentioned increasing my chemo dose next time and shook his head no-no style when I enquired whether it was possible to do the chemo every 2 weeks instead of 3. Oh well, I'll just have to be patient I guess.
The bed I was put in today had a good view of the TV. But I had another TV right in the bed next to mine, tuned on cancer channel. The talkative chinese guy with nose cancer (I had not realised this even existed!!!) had less interest in the Royal wedding and more in telling me about his cancer journey. I was patient. I grunted, nodded and mmmmmed.
Each of my excursions to the hospital has been for a lesson. Today, listening to the monologue from the chinese guy and seeing another young cancer patient (maybe 17 or 18 years) with only skin and bones, I felt grateful for MY cancer. Really. I am very grateful that MY cancer:
My Allah, this Mercy is from You and You alone. Alhamdulillah. Thank You.
PS: I must thank William and Kate too. Thank you guys for picking my chemo day as your wedding day. I appreciate the entertainment.
IA by the end of my treatment, we'll be very friendly, if not totally buddy buddy :).
No, seriously, he was super nice. Asking about my breast, nausea, menses, weakness, constipation, etc. The icing on the cake was being spared the steriods!!! What a relief. On the other hand, he mentioned increasing my chemo dose next time and shook his head no-no style when I enquired whether it was possible to do the chemo every 2 weeks instead of 3. Oh well, I'll just have to be patient I guess.
The bed I was put in today had a good view of the TV. But I had another TV right in the bed next to mine, tuned on cancer channel. The talkative chinese guy with nose cancer (I had not realised this even existed!!!) had less interest in the Royal wedding and more in telling me about his cancer journey. I was patient. I grunted, nodded and mmmmmed.
Each of my excursions to the hospital has been for a lesson. Today, listening to the monologue from the chinese guy and seeing another young cancer patient (maybe 17 or 18 years) with only skin and bones, I felt grateful for MY cancer. Really. I am very grateful that MY cancer:
- Is initital stage;
- Is located in the breast rather then a vital organ;
- Is only progesterone receptive and not oestrogen or protein receptive;
- does not not make me go through the ordeal of long chemo/herceptin sessions;
- does not require that I have a catheter port inserted in my vein;
- has timed the treatment rightly to fall in winter rather than summer;
- has not taken away my ability to get up and go out or socialise;
- has taken only my hair and half of a breast away. It has spared the best of me.
My Allah, this Mercy is from You and You alone. Alhamdulillah. Thank You.
PS: I must thank William and Kate too. Thank you guys for picking my chemo day as your wedding day. I appreciate the entertainment.
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Habitual criminal?
So it is the eve of what I hope fervently will be my 3rd chemo session tomorrow. Fervently because I am hoping my blood results will show that I can undertake the 3rd session and thus take me that one step closer to making progress in the treatment.
Yes, you've guessed right. I have developped chemo fatigue. If I had my way, I'd be double dosing the rest of the chemo treatment in a couple of weeks just so that it is over sooner rather than later. But that's my taciturn onco's call and knowing him, I really should not be messing with his protocol.
So yes, I am quite looking forward to the END of tomorrow, when a dose of chemo coupled with a royal wedding should see me in good spirits IA.
These past days I have indulged in all of my heart's desires (which really are my tongue's desires) as I know that the coming week will see me yoyoing between no taste and bad taste, dance fever highs and pit bottom lows, zombie peace and foggy wars. Absolute fun I tell you!!! Ha! I feel like a habitual criminal returning to an all too familiar cell!
So, before I head to jail tomorrow, let me pen down a few things which I am grateful for. Let's see:
Yes, you've guessed right. I have developped chemo fatigue. If I had my way, I'd be double dosing the rest of the chemo treatment in a couple of weeks just so that it is over sooner rather than later. But that's my taciturn onco's call and knowing him, I really should not be messing with his protocol.
So yes, I am quite looking forward to the END of tomorrow, when a dose of chemo coupled with a royal wedding should see me in good spirits IA.
These past days I have indulged in all of my heart's desires (which really are my tongue's desires) as I know that the coming week will see me yoyoing between no taste and bad taste, dance fever highs and pit bottom lows, zombie peace and foggy wars. Absolute fun I tell you!!! Ha! I feel like a habitual criminal returning to an all too familiar cell!
So, before I head to jail tomorrow, let me pen down a few things which I am grateful for. Let's see:
- The now ritual Bouillon Mee Foon with "Heart" before chemo;
- Friends in far away lands skyping me and showing me their boys;
- A workplace that reminds me that pain and suffering does not come only in the form of cancer;
- Quick henna; and
- Love of the purest kind.
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
The hardest part
Today I was asked what's the hardest part of my cancer. Without batting an eyelid or missing a heartbeat, I said losing my hair. No, not the nausea, not the weakness, not the surgery, not the sutures, not even the partial disfigurement. It's the hair.
But that's an easy answer. It's not the hair actually. Or rather should I say, it's not just the hair?
I think I know what it is. It's about not having a choice. About how you want to be, who you want to be, what you can reach out and pluck from the tree of life. But mostly about what you can no longer allow yourself to dream and hope for.
It's the absence of choice that is the hardest part of cancer. Not the hair.
But that's an easy answer. It's not the hair actually. Or rather should I say, it's not just the hair?
I think I know what it is. It's about not having a choice. About how you want to be, who you want to be, what you can reach out and pluck from the tree of life. But mostly about what you can no longer allow yourself to dream and hope for.
It's the absence of choice that is the hardest part of cancer. Not the hair.
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
Dodo islanders
There's a garden of thin short spikes on my head. Tonight I am plucking them off as I would unruly weeds. It's that part in the chemo cycle when they fall with ease. And as I type this, I am getting what I dread as hot flashes! Menopause is such a scary word.
I know I must be repeating myself like a beserk parrot but tired is a word I am not getting tired of using. I am tired. So tired. So so tired.
On a different note, we dodo islanders are a unique breed. We are masters at passing the buck. Today I witnessed and participated in some buck passing.
Our meetings start with some careful but discreet looking to your right and left for identification of who to pass the buck to, then there follows a slow dance of recriminations, polite finger-pointing, a bit a serious plannning, some weird form of division of labour and finally locating that one agent to lumber with a whole can of worms to tease apart at short notice. And then the buck stops.
All this is done with a combination of civility, bull tactics and unearthing of obscure papers and commitments to hang a poor sweating culprit.
But then, as you leave the meeting, you laugh and chide your opponents a little, forgive any mishaps and forget the gaping lapses and head straight to your desk to do your part to save the day.
Yes, we dodo islanders are a unique breed. We scrap everything and save the day :)
I know I must be repeating myself like a beserk parrot but tired is a word I am not getting tired of using. I am tired. So tired. So so tired.
On a different note, we dodo islanders are a unique breed. We are masters at passing the buck. Today I witnessed and participated in some buck passing.
Our meetings start with some careful but discreet looking to your right and left for identification of who to pass the buck to, then there follows a slow dance of recriminations, polite finger-pointing, a bit a serious plannning, some weird form of division of labour and finally locating that one agent to lumber with a whole can of worms to tease apart at short notice. And then the buck stops.
All this is done with a combination of civility, bull tactics and unearthing of obscure papers and commitments to hang a poor sweating culprit.
But then, as you leave the meeting, you laugh and chide your opponents a little, forgive any mishaps and forget the gaping lapses and head straight to your desk to do your part to save the day.
Yes, we dodo islanders are a unique breed. We scrap everything and save the day :)
Monday, 25 April 2011
Eye Candy
Another day of being wedged in the crack. No walking. Not much talking.
The aide de camp of the President of India is indeed an eye candy. He's a pretty boy.
I think some more eye candy can help reduce my stress levels.
Maybe some Ranbir Kapoor will help.
The aide de camp of the President of India is indeed an eye candy. He's a pretty boy.
I think some more eye candy can help reduce my stress levels.
Maybe some Ranbir Kapoor will help.
Sunday, 24 April 2011
Zoning out
Chemo's effects were well felt today.
Ha! And there I was thinking that I had somehow escaped the bouts of weakness I felt in the first round.
From the moment I woke up, it's been low energy and zoning out. I zoned out into a weird space. Few thoughts, fewer sentences dancing in my head. Ten hours of falling in a crack while life buzzed around unaware of my absence.
Happy Easter folks.
Ha! And there I was thinking that I had somehow escaped the bouts of weakness I felt in the first round.
From the moment I woke up, it's been low energy and zoning out. I zoned out into a weird space. Few thoughts, fewer sentences dancing in my head. Ten hours of falling in a crack while life buzzed around unaware of my absence.
Happy Easter folks.
Saturday, 23 April 2011
Zen
It was when I was lying flat on my stomach looking down into a bowl filled with water and rose petals that the thought came to my mind. The moment had chosen us, "Heart" and I. We did not choose it.
And the moment chose us wisely I think. It knew the exact day, time and mood when we would both be tired, free and willing.
There was no plan, no pressure. Just a quiet invitation that led our feet to the doors of the spa.
It's been a long long time since I had a massage and as the masseuse was untying knot after knot in my back and neck, I silently winced. It hurt! I had amassed a good amount of tension and kneading all that away had, of course, to hurt.
But there is something to be said for the power of the human touch. It is just flesh on flesh, skin to skin contact, but boy, does it do wonders for your body!
So tonight, I am all zen. The moment chose the body today. The spirit can wait.
And the moment chose us wisely I think. It knew the exact day, time and mood when we would both be tired, free and willing.
There was no plan, no pressure. Just a quiet invitation that led our feet to the doors of the spa.
It's been a long long time since I had a massage and as the masseuse was untying knot after knot in my back and neck, I silently winced. It hurt! I had amassed a good amount of tension and kneading all that away had, of course, to hurt.
But there is something to be said for the power of the human touch. It is just flesh on flesh, skin to skin contact, but boy, does it do wonders for your body!
So tonight, I am all zen. The moment chose the body today. The spirit can wait.
Friday, 22 April 2011
Tortured souls
Almost everyone I know is hiding a tortured soul behind a large smile. Everyone is pretending. I am too.
The truth is we are all fleeing. Some of us are running from our spouses/partners. Some are running to what looks from a distance as greener pastures. Some are running from the past. Some are running to the future. Some use lies. Some hide truths. Some think they can fool. Some are fools.
Human beings are ingenious when it comes to running. We rarely use our two feet. I think we think it is too primitive. Instead, we concoct complicated plans, use sophisticated speech and apply twisted shady means.
But when all is said and done, we must admit that it is impossible to run from our tortured souls.
And that's a good thing. Because at the end of the day, our tortured souls are our homes. And there is no place like home.
The truth is we are all fleeing. Some of us are running from our spouses/partners. Some are running to what looks from a distance as greener pastures. Some are running from the past. Some are running to the future. Some use lies. Some hide truths. Some think they can fool. Some are fools.
Human beings are ingenious when it comes to running. We rarely use our two feet. I think we think it is too primitive. Instead, we concoct complicated plans, use sophisticated speech and apply twisted shady means.
But when all is said and done, we must admit that it is impossible to run from our tortured souls.
And that's a good thing. Because at the end of the day, our tortured souls are our homes. And there is no place like home.
Thursday, 21 April 2011
I'm irked
Something is irking me tonight. It's to do with poor decision-making.
It's thursday. End of the week almost and it feels like a lot has happened the last 5 or 6 days. Right now, I am exhausted both physically and mentally. Physically because I drove (and I dislike driving) while being drunk on a lot of beauty. I could not help the drinking and the driving was out of guilt really. Mentally, I am wasted because lately I feel like I have been battling the lethargy and depression of someone else in addition to coping with my cancer.
See, there is much resistance to change in my surroundings and a propensity to leave decision-making to later rather than sooner.
And here is where I fit, or rather misfit. I am, by nature (thank God for that), quite malleable regarding change and rather quick on taking decisions, both good and bad ones.
This latter trait is often mistaken for overconfidence (yes, ahem, according to certain folks, I am both overconfident and arrogant). I personally know that I have serious confidence issues but they seldom surface in decision-making. Simply because decision-making for me (when done by the grey matter and not the glass) is very organised and logical. No shortcuts. No overlooking facts. Just assess and jump.
So when others dilly-dally, postpone or cancel, fidget and moan, I am ready to pounce on them!
I know I must be patient. Be gentle. Use some tactics. And be patient some more. But first, I must STOP living others' lives along with my own.
In moments like now (and of course the long drives on meandering roads), I wish for one thing only. Someone with a sharp brain and wise witty remarks. Happy to indulge my craziness and frustration with the world. Forbearing with my excess and drama. Ready to gather the odd bits of me in a spontaneous embrace and kiss my forehead.
It's thursday. End of the week almost and it feels like a lot has happened the last 5 or 6 days. Right now, I am exhausted both physically and mentally. Physically because I drove (and I dislike driving) while being drunk on a lot of beauty. I could not help the drinking and the driving was out of guilt really. Mentally, I am wasted because lately I feel like I have been battling the lethargy and depression of someone else in addition to coping with my cancer.
See, there is much resistance to change in my surroundings and a propensity to leave decision-making to later rather than sooner.
And here is where I fit, or rather misfit. I am, by nature (thank God for that), quite malleable regarding change and rather quick on taking decisions, both good and bad ones.
This latter trait is often mistaken for overconfidence (yes, ahem, according to certain folks, I am both overconfident and arrogant). I personally know that I have serious confidence issues but they seldom surface in decision-making. Simply because decision-making for me (when done by the grey matter and not the glass) is very organised and logical. No shortcuts. No overlooking facts. Just assess and jump.
So when others dilly-dally, postpone or cancel, fidget and moan, I am ready to pounce on them!
I know I must be patient. Be gentle. Use some tactics. And be patient some more. But first, I must STOP living others' lives along with my own.
In moments like now (and of course the long drives on meandering roads), I wish for one thing only. Someone with a sharp brain and wise witty remarks. Happy to indulge my craziness and frustration with the world. Forbearing with my excess and drama. Ready to gather the odd bits of me in a spontaneous embrace and kiss my forehead.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)