The Sound of Silence.
The hum of the road under my tires, the buzz of traffic whizzing by outside my window. That's all I could hear today. For two hours I drove to a weekend getaway but I couldn't turn on the radio or the Ipod. I've reached that point when the music doesn't talk to me.
I'm too tired. It doesn't lift me. I can't think. The words don't hold special meaning. There is only silence in my head. How can I make it through the next hour, day, week? I'm halfway through the treatment and it has finally beaten me down enough that I no longer care.
How many more days must I feel like this? Is there a song that can make the fatigue and nausea go away? Oh, how I hate to wish away my days but I count them out anyway.... Four more treatments on Tuesdays means eight more "bad Thursday's and Friday's." Will I feel better on my off week? It doesn't feel like I can but I hope I will. Maybe the music will return next week when I have that break but I can't be sure. As long as my focus is so narrow and my level of concentration so low, I won't be able to hear the music.
It's the worst part of the chemo and I know it will disappear and I will be able to feel normal again and enjoy my life again but for now all I have is the sound of silence.
Showing posts with label Chemobrain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chemobrain. Show all posts
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Monday, December 3, 2012
Burning down the house
Pssst. Hey, over here.... Can you keep a secret?
I almost burned down my house. No, not when I was six. Today, two hours ago. How'd that happen, you ask? Well, I was making something in the oven and I forgot about it.
Bet you think I'm over 80, right? Well, no, I'm only 48 but I recently had chemo and this is what happens. Chemobrain.
A couple of years ago I went to see my folks in the midwest. One day my husband and I found my mom at her door with a towel waving it around like mad. She had left something on the stove and it has slowly burned down until it was burnt to the pan and smoking up the house like hell. My mom had helped me out once or twice conveniently "forgetting" to tell my dad about an incident with the car so I thought it was only fair I return the favor. We threw out the pan and helped fan out the house so dad would never know.
At the time I never imagined I would forget something like that, at least not until I was my mothers age and yet here I am, unable to remember I turned on the stove when I was sitting only feet away from it.
And, for the record, I didn't just let the food burn a little. Heck no, I let it CATCH FIRE in the oven. I didn't notice it was burning until smoke was filling the room and setting off the alarms. In all my 25 years of marriage I have never had a more scary incident in the kitchen.
The worst part is it comes at the end of a long week of confusion. Multiple times throughout the week I felt not only distracted but downright lost in the middle of important conversations. My boss was explaining a new direction in our strategy and while he was speaking I was unable to focus on what he was saying. I couldn't formulate questions I wanted to ask or remember what he said. Not five minutes after the discussion ended I couldn't summarize what we had discussed to a co-worker.
My chemo ended in mid July and I had noticed some problems with word recall. I'd have trouble thinking of a word that would normally be tip of my tongue. But this.... this is different. This has scared me. After that meeting with my boss I was trying so hard to remember the core of that conversation, I was so frustrated.... I wanted to cry, actually sit down and cry right there at work.
Some think chemobrain doesn't exist.
It does.
I've got the burnt pan to prove it.
Burning Down the House:
I almost burned down my house. No, not when I was six. Today, two hours ago. How'd that happen, you ask? Well, I was making something in the oven and I forgot about it.
Bet you think I'm over 80, right? Well, no, I'm only 48 but I recently had chemo and this is what happens. Chemobrain.
A couple of years ago I went to see my folks in the midwest. One day my husband and I found my mom at her door with a towel waving it around like mad. She had left something on the stove and it has slowly burned down until it was burnt to the pan and smoking up the house like hell. My mom had helped me out once or twice conveniently "forgetting" to tell my dad about an incident with the car so I thought it was only fair I return the favor. We threw out the pan and helped fan out the house so dad would never know.
At the time I never imagined I would forget something like that, at least not until I was my mothers age and yet here I am, unable to remember I turned on the stove when I was sitting only feet away from it.
And, for the record, I didn't just let the food burn a little. Heck no, I let it CATCH FIRE in the oven. I didn't notice it was burning until smoke was filling the room and setting off the alarms. In all my 25 years of marriage I have never had a more scary incident in the kitchen.
The worst part is it comes at the end of a long week of confusion. Multiple times throughout the week I felt not only distracted but downright lost in the middle of important conversations. My boss was explaining a new direction in our strategy and while he was speaking I was unable to focus on what he was saying. I couldn't formulate questions I wanted to ask or remember what he said. Not five minutes after the discussion ended I couldn't summarize what we had discussed to a co-worker.
My chemo ended in mid July and I had noticed some problems with word recall. I'd have trouble thinking of a word that would normally be tip of my tongue. But this.... this is different. This has scared me. After that meeting with my boss I was trying so hard to remember the core of that conversation, I was so frustrated.... I wanted to cry, actually sit down and cry right there at work.
Some think chemobrain doesn't exist.
It does.
I've got the burnt pan to prove it.
Burning Down the House:
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