Staring in the face of something new...

Courage, don't you dare fail me now
I need you to keep away the doubts
I'm staring in the face of something new
You're all I've got to hold on to
So, courage, don't you dare fail me now

'Cause it's not easy when you're not with me
This world of madness goes faster now
And it's a train wreck, but I won't crash yet
As long as your echo never fades out

                            - Céline Dion “Courage”

 

 

This has been an extremely challenging week for me... and for Lou. My foot continues to give me issues. Oxycodone isn't really helping and a new prescription for Gabapentin is taking the edge off the foot pain so I am able to sleep. The eight-hour medication lasted exactly four hours and thirty-six minutes, at which time all the pain flooded my foot again and I was back where I started.

Despite the fact that the pain is neurological, my left ankle and foot were x-rayed yesterday morning before I headed upstairs to get my blood drawn and to hopefully have chemo. They were checking to make sure there was nothing structurally wrong with it. And as it turns out, there wasn't.

So up I went to the chemo pods and was greeted by one of my favourite nurses. He hadn't worked with me for quite some time and it was good to see him. He drew my blood and sent it to the lab. About 30 minutes later, I heard him talking on the phone and heard my name being spoken. I suspected that things weren't going well and that I wouldn't get chemo again. 20 minutes later, it was confirmed. All of my numbers were low again, so I asked if any of them had come up. Unfortunately, none of them had come up and they were actually lower than they were the previous week. I was told that Dr. V was extremely frustrated. That makes at least two of us. 

As I headed back to the carpark feeling defeated once more, I heard some gentle piano and strings muzak playing through the skywalk. Once again, the tears started to come. It was a quiet cry and I don't think anyone noticed. I had cried quite a bit earlier this week and that apparently had broken the moratorium on me not crying because of the cancer. This is the first time I am feeling lost and stuck. I am between plans. I don't have a map.

I had spoken to a friend earlier in the day and I told him that I didn't feel like there was a whole lot of "me" left in me. He responded by saying that clearly there was a lot more of "me" left based on the topics of conversation we covered and that I was still laughing about things. He assured me that I was still a lot stronger than I believed I was. I have to remember that even though it's hard for me to remember a lot of the positive things that I should. This is just a new phase of my illness and we shall get through this like we have the for the past six years.