Living with cancer and living well is the theme of this blog. Somewhere along the way I’ve gone from living well, to thinking I’m living well, to realizing I am living unwell. When did this happen? How exactly did I get here? It sucks. Can I get back to living well or is this it?
Quality of life (QOL) has been a phrase I’ve always hated. To me it means treatment is done and it’s an attempt at empathy to say the focus is now on comfort. I know QOL can show up from day one of treatment, however, some of my preconceptions are carved in stone. I am a fan of comfort, but also would like to stay on an effective treatment. Besides, I want both. It needn’t be one or the other.
Enhertu was a relentlessly vicious treatment without an ounce of comfort. Nausea followed me everywhere. Either I couldn’t eat when I wanted or wasn’t hungry. Weight dropped off effortlessly. Most of the time I felt a heavy, flattening fatigue. I slept a lot. Why not, it lessened the nausea a degree.
Here is a plug from my fictitious sponsor Ensure. Ensure is delicious, especially the vanilla. And it gives me some needed nutrition. It comes with an immunity boost, too. I love it!
Other lowlights include a two-month hiatus from taking a walk outside. I finally did my 2 mile loop. I was about ten minutes from home when I realized how hard it was and how much energy I was exerting. I need to build up my stamina. I’ve only done it once or twice since then.
A friend has visited me twice where our visits basically amounted to me lying on the couch like a lazy bulldog while she sat in a chair. I couldn’t even sit up.
Most days my makeup consists of eyebrows and eyeliner on days I want to spruce up. Makeup has always been rather minimal for me. Eyebrows make a huge difference. Lipstick isn’t needed because if I go anywhere, I wear a mask.
These scenarios are examples of my not living well with cancer.
At home I’m largely okay. It’s my safe haven. I can eat and rest when I need. Recently, I traveled to Florida. My plane ride was remarkably normal. Once I met up with friends, I found keeping up with them hard. I couldn’t always eat when I needed to but gradually began to do this to fit my body rather than the late hour. I had to say NO once or twice to activities. I still took my afternoon siestas when possible. The emotional toll of the trip and side effects were almost harder than the physical.
What to do now that I’m home?
I rest when I need to rest.
I nap without apology.
I eat what I can and what tastes good to me.
I cancel plans if too tired.
I know who supports me.
Now, I’m on yet another treatment. I hope it’s kinder to my body and more effective. I’d love to get back to living well.
Finding A Way 