Fussy

I was so happy to be back in my bed, back with my pillows, back with Matt. I slept through the night which is everyone’s dream. But I woke up at 6 am to another massive headache. I stretched and massaged and cried. And then I went back to sleep. I awoke still feeling the sting of whatever is bothering me. I started to feel like Dr. House, looking at my symptoms and trying to come up with a diagnosis. The scalp pain, the neck pain, the sore throat, the swollen eye, the reflux, the constipation…none of it makes sense. Neither does it make sense to my oncologist. I went for my infusion and he said my blood work looked perfect, hemoglobin back up, white counts are right, no signs of anemia or anything else. He was surprised because he expected me to come bouncing in saying I’m feeling great, no more chemo, all is right with the world. He was so excited to hear of my post surgery results, achieving a pCR, the pathological complete response. No more cancer, this is all great news! But to feel this crappy makes no sense. None whatsoever. At last we explored the idea that maybe this could be related to menopause. Hard to say for sure, the symptoms don’t add up, but there is the potential that I’ve been forced into menopause and it’s rearing it’s head, but I can’t help but think it’s a combination of post surgery pain and … well, I just don’t know. And that’s why I cried. Because my body and mind are tired of not feeling well and not knowing why. I just want to feel better already. 

Next on the list, meet with the radiologist, get another echocardiogram, get another CT scan, and meet with the thoracic surgeon. No more cancer doesn’t mean no more fuss…still a long road ahead of me. 

In the meantime, I’ve been spending extra time with my best friend (apologies to my real best friends!). Anything to help me get through this.