 |
| Me and the lovely Claire, todays Chemo Grads! |
I burst into tears as the nurse turned the machine on for the last time. It seemed to come from nowhere. I obviously needed it. My PICC line was taken out too, hoorah!!! I can finally put my arm in the bath!!
 |
| Bye Bye PICC line! |
Everyone around me seem to be very excited about my last chemo but I feel very flat, dazed, a little bit lost. From chatting to others who have been through this, it seems this is very normal. I have been warned and have heard many stories about the end of treatment being the most difficult time. (I'm not quite at the end though, still have rads to go) This may seem alien to you, surely I should be happy and relieved. I can "start to get back to normal now". I cannot imagine that life will ever be "normal" again. Cancer will always be part of my life now, perhaps not physically but mentally it will always be there.
I believe that this is the time when most "fall apart". I am determined that I am not going to do this and believe that writing this blog will help me with this. It has helped me to process what has happened to me. I have read it through, over and over again. It reduces me to tears nearly every time.
I don't imagine that I will ever be the same person. Some say I'll be stronger, but I don't know. Stronger possibly but DIFFERENT absolutely! Its hard to put into words what the end of chemo feels like so I am going to use some quotes to explain. I think they sum it up beautifully.....
Imagine, for a moment, that your progress through life is
like being on a small boat. For most of the time you sail along weathering both the
expected and unanticipated storms that occur in every life. Then, all of a
sudden and without warning, the most horrendous storm blows up - much worse
than any you have experienced before and completely unexpectedly.
Your boat is tossed all over the place, you are lashed by
rain and wind, the waves crash about you, their size obliterating the horizon
and restricting your vision to the immediate surroundings. You fear for your
life and hang on to whatever is to hand to stop yourself from being washed
overboard.
This rather dramatic narrative attempts to put into words what the experience of being diagnosed and treated for cancer might be like for some of you. Whilst not everyone goes through it in this way, the enormous upheaval and threat that many people report seems to be echoed in that brief description.But, like treatment, the turmoil subsides and there is the beginning of the calm after the storm. You look around at your boat, battered and damaged though it is, and it is still afloat.
There is a need to repair and mend those bits that have been
broken or damaged. Some items may be lost, washed overboard and you will have
to find ways of proceeding in spite of these losses. Once you have looked over the
boat, you gingerly look out to sea. But instead of a clear blue ocean and
cloudless sky you see little but mist and fog. Your sea charts have been lost
in the storm. You are not really sure of your position, whether you are in the
same place as before, pointing in the same direction. You may also wonder
whether you want to go on along the same path as before.
The sea, though calmer, is still unsettled and your world
feels unstable under your feet. Thoughts of where to go, what next, how to get
help assault you and add to your worry and uncertainty. This may be what it feels like for you when your treatment
ends. Still reeling from the physical, emotional and practical demands of
treatment you are left contemplating an uncertain and possibly frightening future.
The end of treatment may be one of the most difficult and complex times for
you.
It may make demands on you that you could not imagine whilst
you were undergoing treatment. And it may be the time when you feel the most in
need of support but least able to ask for it and when it seems least available.
No comments:
Post a Comment