Friday night thoughts

This week has been… a week. It was my first week without chemotherapy to give my body enough time to heal and rest. I don’t feel much rested or healed, BUT I am thankful for the break. I’m sure it’s all working behind the scenes – but the science is above my pay grade. I feel like this whole ordeal has been on a “need-to-know basis.” I’ll keep it that way.
Today, I had pervasive health anxiety thoughts regarding the recent development of the ball/thickening/stiffness in my left arm, and a nagging internal pain in my throat on the left side. You should be proud of me, though – I didn’t spiral or go down some internet rabbit hole. I have my list of questions and comments ready for Monday.
I suspect the second injection to be the culprit. The first nurse was gentle and put the shot in the fat of my right arm, whereas the second nurse put the shot in the left arm muscle, not the fat. Maybe that’s it? Thankfully, no spleens have exploded, nor have I developed any rashes or issues with my lungs or breathing. The left arm has pain that I’ve never felt before. It doesn’t impact my movement or use of the arm, but it’s noticeable. The muscle is stiff, and I can move it around, and that’s where the pain stems from. It’s not the skin, it’s not the top layer – it feels like the flesh right above the bone. It’s unreal. This whole experience feels like a lesson in learning and feeling parts of my body I took for granted. The left side of the throat pain is most prominent when I turn my head right and upwards. I thought it might be a dental issue, but it’s not. It’s not the thyroid (I don’t think), and it’s not the throat itself. It’s internal, and I can’t quite pinpoint it – is it in the area of the tonsils? What could possibly be in pain there? I had my tonsils removed at 13. Are we meant to know our body this deeply, or have I just always been ignorant of this part of existence?
The health anxiety spiked; what could possibly be going on? Massaging my arm has been incredibly painful; it’s just gnawing at the back of my mind about what could be wrong. Besides that, the bone pain persists, and the meds don’t really do their job. I’ve stopped taking one of the pain meds unless the pain is severe to the point I am lying on the bed, refusing to move because everything hurts too much because it gives me gnarly headaches, AND makes my eyes twitch to the point I can’t do anything. The tradeoff of these medicines is a mess. I fear that I am taking too many meds that will then impact other parts of my body. I feel that I’m not drinking enough water and that some weird malfunction will happen with my body. Moving has become harder, and I need assistance getting up from chairs. Getting out of bed is also taking longer. My body is tired, and it’s not in sync with my mind. The fatigue is finally lessening, and I’m excited about the plans for the weekend but dreading Monday.
Work sucked, but what’s new. They told me I could apply for another job internally. This job would be fully remote, and there’s a pay cut, but it “would allow for the accommodations to be applied,” which is a wild thing to say when the accommodations requested aren’t demanding at all. I’ll apply just to see, but I’m not getting my hopes up, considering that in the previous jobs I applied for, I was rejected on the grounds that I was too qualified and, at the same time, lacked experience. I genuinely dislike HR speak and the glossed-over attitude it brings to the table. If you work in HR, just focus on being considerate and genuine; the bubbly-like quality has been jarring. Like, are you reading the room? Are you aware we’re talking about cancer and chemotherapy and the balance that’s trying to be maintained to receive life-saving treatment? No? Okay, I guess we’re talking about your dog. I know a job is just a job, but I genuinely felt incredibly happy to have found this place. Again, back to the theme that this industry has constantly chewed me and spat me back out. It doesn’t want me here despite how hard I try. And even when I try to leave, I’m unable to do so because, despite having a good resume, no one knows what I do outside of this industry. I’m tired.
I’m weighing the pros and cons about this position. If I get it, I’ll consider taking it. The pay cut would suck, but I was thinking I could use that title as a jump-off point to another field entirely. That’s down the line, though; I need to stay at this company for the health insurance. They know it, and they know they can exploit it. Do I have a case? That draft is sitting in my emails, ready to send to the employment lawyers. Even if I do, I won’t be able to do much. I fear retaliation. This is the primary item on my agenda for my meeting with my therapist this coming week.
You know, I don’t know what I am meant to gain from this experience. In reflecting on my life – have I not gone through enough already? I know I am resilient, and I know I will persevere, but when is it enough? I’m called strong now more frequently, but am I really? I’m so tired. And, for the record, I abhor being called a “tough cookie.”
On top of all of the physiological body horror mess and the situation with work, there was an article that just hit me in the gut and caused a whole lot of overthinking regarding my friendships. The article [https://www.thecut.com/article/cancer-ghosts-friendship-breakups-after-diagnosis.html] really hit close to home and just really unnecessary reminder of what I am currently undergoing. I appreciated that it gave me the language to identify what had been going on and highlighted the concerns I was warned about at the start of this journey, as well as the pain. Frankly, with that article, cancer can be replaced with pregnancy and autoimmune/chronic illness, and it still rings true.
I am resentful and angry. I am heartbroken and deeply saddened. It would genuinely be fine if it were just one person, but when it’s the amount that it’s, well, what have I done wrong to deserve this mess? I recognize it’s not just a “ME” issue – this is a widespread phenomenon, but man, juggling the physiological, the mental battle, the work battle, the money battle, now this too? I always joked I was at my lowest point (joked but like in that – I WILL LAUGH SO I DON’T CRY – sort of way), but the floor keeps opening up, and I keep falling. I feel like a silly jester with my stories and my attempts to be vulnerable and authentic.