How is it only Wednesday?

This past week has been quite adventurous and also a blur. I was adventurous in that I managed to do quite a bit of socializing with my family; we went to the movies twice and attended a soccer game. It’s a blur, as I’m reaching the point where I need “do nothing” weekends to recuperate. I am struggling to find the balance between reclaiming my joy and reclaiming my time in the midst of responding to text messages and declining health and all my health appointments. I am SO thankful for the reprieve I had last week, but man, there was so much stress on my end on Monday before my chemotherapy session. The nurse had to come and collect my blood pressure three times because it was elevated. I’ve kept a log of my blood pressure, and it has ranged to pretty normal levels. She and I attributed this increase to just the anxiety of getting back into the swing of receiving chemotherapy and the apprehension and stress that come from the process. I was cleared to receive chemotherapy, and the process began. My port continued to give the nurses issues with the blood withdrawal. Still, she made it work – at the end of the session, she placed a solution in the port that would help prevent the buildup of mucus or body material that the body places on a foreign object in hopes that the next session would be smooth and bring up no issues. I took a disgusting, sweaty nap – it wasn’t enjoyable. Who would enjoy a nap when you’re cold yet simultaneously clammy and warm, sweating and struggling to regulate your body temperature?
In this process of chemotherapy, I had no idea I would battle it out with my body on the digestion end, on experiencing menopause early, on experiencing deep bone pain and nausea. Lord, the nausea has been outrageous. I made it through with my mom by my side, and honestly, the nurse, whom I would say connected with, made an effort to hear me out and take what I said into consideration. I felt heard, and that is worth its weight in gold – or whatever the fuck that phrase is. Especially since, during this meeting, I shared with her the stiff and thick muscle on my left arm. She felt the arm and became concerned; she came back and told me she spoke to her supervisor and noted that the way the shot was delivered was not okay – and it was validating. Thankfully, my arm feels much less stiff today, and I’ve just received the second shot in my arm for the week. The oncology nurses have been incredibly kind and amazing, not just with me but with everyone.
This week, I feel so tired. I feel acid in the back of my throat, and I am already dreading the schedule for tomorrow. I have to get up at 5 am to get to my reconstruction surgery follow-up appointment on time. Early ass appointments because I need to make it back in time for work to ensure I don’t miss hours. This is tiring, and I hate this back-and-forth with work again. This weekend, I hope to see a dear friend on Friday, have a Saturday outing, and attend a couple of events on Sunday. I am overextending myself, but I don’t want to stop my life. I want to continue living. I am typing this from my desk, and I am exhausted. I sleep, but I don’t rest. I am exhausted. I plan to shower, read, and go to bed by 8:30 pm.

This is a brief update –