Fog, fog, and more fog….what day is it?

I have been in the fog so many days that I can barely remember what day it is. I never had the procedure done at UCLA. My cancer was hiding. I was very mentally prepared to be in a drug induced fog during my chemo. The saga began first with the technician who could not find the cancer. I kept saying,” how can this be?” Then, hierarchy number 2 who had me sit, move, roll, and explained in a soft voice that it would be too dangerous. I sent a text to my doctor for the last word and he ran over in a dash to be by my side. I began to cry saying that I have a son and family and I didn’t want to just roll the dice. I know there are no absolute answers. Now, the team explained to me that my cancer was behind my organs and made it impossible to get a sample without too much risk. So, I gathered myself with Jim to enjoy the air and sunshine before I had to go into the closet.

I had made a small demand for my very first nurse who started this journey with me. She is so knowledgeable about side effects and knows how to do my infusion. I was armed with treats galore which seemed to help since not only was I assigned to one of the best chairs, but moved to an even better chair. This was a dangerous move since I had a partner in crime who is often with me during infusions and we tend to laugh a lot about our situations. Also, this new seat kept me put of the sight of the other sick patients. There are more young people this time which always breaks my heart.  I tried to focus on the view which was better than the view of the psychiatric ward (although they can provide entertainment). After sorting all my orders, the infusion began and was over 8 hours. I closed the place down. My doctor visited me about a dozen times during this infusion. I had forgotten about some of these drugs which caused the sensation of shaking my head….I had blocked out a lot of this.  I was in pain caused my cancer hiding behind my organs.

Then, the days disappeared. My pain patch kicked in and I slept the days away. My appetite was gone, but attempted to eat a bit here and there. My fog was so bad that I had no idea what day it was. I hate this feeling. I hate it for myself, but hate it for Alex and Jim. I am dreaming this will work. It has to work. My strength is absent as I give into these chemo drugs. I attempt to count how many days have passed. It feels as if I am in a tunnel screaming except I cannot hear my voice. I cannot focus clearly on thoughts or images. There are slide shows just flashing in my mind and each time I see Alex’s smile, I reach out to hug him, but he is not there.  This will pass as it usually does. It is just taking longer than I remember. I am still in the fog. My mind is cloudy. My thoughts are blurry. dream of the sunshine and hope you are enjoying yours.

 

 

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