I can't do this anymore.......it's days like these when I sleep all day, feel nauseated all day, my head pounds like Dave Grohl is literally practicing for his next gig repeatedly inside my head, it's days like these that I break down and think would it really be so bad to go to sleep and not wake up? Aptly enough Foo Fighters 'Learn to Fly' is swimming through my thoughts, "looking for the sky to save me, looking for a sign of life, looking for something to help me burn out bright, looking for a complication, looking cause I'm tired of trying, make my way back home when I learn to fly, think I'm done nursing the patience", and that right there "done nursing the patience", that's where my mind, body and soul are at right now. They're tired and they just want to stop trying, they just want to make it back home, whether it be back to the old norm, fully cured or whether it be that great big "home" in the sky, whatever my "home" is, wherever it may be, right now at this very moment of lower than low sickness, I want to be there. No more worry, no more pain, no more burdening the ones I love, although I know they say it's never a burden, albeit sometimes through gritted teeth and with clenched fists......but still never a burden.
I'm broken, I've been here before, in the depths of chemo depression, I was able to get through it then, but can I get through it now?
I just don't think I can do this anymore....with every treatment I think a piece of me, a piece of my fight, a piece of my strength, a piece of my positivity is taken, my body is begging for a break. I am not the person I was when I began this shit fight and I don't believe anyone who has gone or is going through this or any other disease, whether curable or incurable would disagree with that statement. This sort of stuff does change you, some people say it's a good change, that they appreciate the smaller things in life now, others become radical religious types, some become exercising Paleo juicing fructose gluten lactose free Buddhists, others resent their disease and all that it has stolen from them for the remainder of their lives, I suppose a form of PTSD, others walk around fearing cancer at every itch, watery eye or new freckle.
Me? Where do I fit it? Most days I suppose I would take a bit from box number one, I appreciate life more and those who are in it, but at times like these I neglect those I love, I push them away, which I know is wrong, but there is only so many times you can tell someone the same symptoms over and over. I know you love me and I know you're concerned, but you know when you're really sick? I mean man flu x 50 plus a 3 day Oktoberfest binge size hangover, when your own thoughts give you a headache, that sick, the last thing you want to do is talk, or text or snapchat, Facebook, tweet and whatever the fuck else way you can communicate now a days. My lack of communique is not ignorance....well maybe just an incy wincy bit if ignorance, but more survival, in order for me to get through this without decapitating my dad and then force feeding him to my mum, I need "silence". My head hurts too much to reply for the third time that day to the "how are you feeling?" question, does my grey face, dragging of feet on the ground, sound of me gagging on my own bile all night, the fact I haven't left my bedroom for days (which I NEVER do) and basic appearance of death not speak volumes? Do those things combined not answer that question for you? Please I love you, but just let me wallow, one week......maybe two, that's all I ask for. I'm not much of a wallower by nature, so if my body needs a couple of weeks in bed, recuperating, please let me curl up in the foetal position in bed clutching onto my sick bag, gently rocking back and forth asking the Good Lord to take me, a week of wallowing without judgment, without trying to make me feel better, just let me have my self-pity party of one and I promise eventually I will venture back down stairs, I will reacquaint my body with the shower and even shampoo the rat's nest out of my hair, I promise I will reintroduce myself to the world of the living, but for now, just leave me be, I need this.
I often wonder about the poor man or woman who gets their treatment and then goes home to nobody, no one to bug the shit out of them about how they're feeling and for the most part I feel horrible for them. Imagine having to go through this alone? It's easy for me to say.....wouldn't it be nice!? But I'm sure it's far from nice, I imagine it would be a very lonely and scary place to have to face this day in day out by yourself, no one there to comfort you, to make you see there's better things ahead. Tripping over yourself trying to get to the toilet in time before you're sick all over yourself or not having the time, then having to change your bed sheets when you already feel like death barely warmed up. Having to make your own meals, when the slight thought of food makes you want to vomit, rolling in pain without someone to get your pain relief and the list goes on.
So when it comes down to it, I'd rather have my support network than not, just don't take it personally when I stomp around like a bear with a sore head, paw, ear, ass, you get the drift. Let me sulk and I promise, when we're on the other side looking back, I'll buy you a fully loaded ice cream cone, flake and all and maybe some sprinkles......if you're lucky 😉🍦
For those of you going through treatment at the moment, I feel your pain and for those of you supporting someone going through it right now, please cut them a little bit of slack, I promise they'll be back to their normal selves in no time.
Thank-you all for your ongoing love and support and stay fabulous rockstars ❤️🤘🏼
My name is Lisa Magill and I have been navigating the minefield that is cancer since just months after turning 30, people have been saying to me for years that I should put my thoughts into writing and as time has progressed I thought I had left it too late, well here we are nearly 4 years in and for some unknown reason I've decided to start to write today.