Well, it finally happened.
Completely exhausted, my body has decided enough is enough, thrown down it's defences and picked up the first germy bug it could find. Sick as a dog. My pain levels kinda skyrocketed too, enough to have me sitting on the floor in tears.
I know, I know, I should be looking after myself but it's a little difficult to look after one's self when there is a house to be run, work to attend, bills to be paid, pets to be cared for, a patient who refuses to do as he's told, a business to run, Christmas and all the mini crises in between all this. I had nearly 10 days off over Christmas but all I did was run around for Christmas, catch up with people, clean, do work for our business and stress about stuff that had to be done but couldn't because we had to wait on people. Not to mention chemo and making sure Rob is looked after.
I think I finally snapped when I got called into work on my day off. I don't work Mondays but work Saturdays instead. It means I can do chemo with Rob and care for him when we get home. Last Monday, I'm driving Rob home from chemo and my boss calls. A team member called in sick (yeah right, he's still recovering from NYE), can you please come in for a few hours? First, I say no but then she persuades me to come in at 5 and work until 9. OK fine.
I get there, there is hardly any work to do, J is fine and doesn't need any backup and then my boss comes back in at 6. What the hell am I doing there then? I barely got any sleep the night before, I've sat through 5 hours of chemo etc with Rob and now I have to sit there and do nothing? Me coming in on a Monday also means I'll have to work 6 days instead of 5. Fantastic.
Next day, my body told me to go screw myself and I'm where I am now. Sick, sore and pretty much, kinda useless. And I couldn't go with Rob to his oncologist appointment yesterday as I didn't want to sit in a room full of cancer patients with my germs. That's just not fair to them.
Some good news though. Rob finishes chemo middle of February! Hurrah! He'll have a colonoscopy and a couple of CTs to make sure the cancer hasn't decided to spread anywhere else and then it's blood tests every 3 months and a CT every 6 months. I know I'm gonna be absolutely shitting my pants when they do the scans etc - I pray to God that it's gone. Please, please, please. If there is one thing that goes right in our lives, let it be this.
In the meantime, I'm just gonna crawl into bed and hope to heaven my sinuses don't explode! *sniffle*
Cancer Council NSW would like to acknowledge the traditional custodians of the land on which we live and work.We would also like to pay respect to elders past and present and extend that respect to all other Aboriginal people.