I try not to moan. I try not to complain. I know how
lucky I am in so many ways. There are people I know and love who are not long
for this land. And I can't imagine what that is like. To have been through it
all. Chemotherapy. Radiotherapy. Surgery. All those hours of sitting in hospital waiting
rooms and to still die. It's fucking shit. It really is. And I'm still here.
I'm still alive. And for no apparent reason at the moment to change this, I am destined to be
here for quite a while.
And yet. My life is not mine. I am plagued and hindered
by fatigue. Those that have it know the fine line we walk. To make sure that
there is enough sleep. Not too much walking. Not too many meetings. Eat enough
food. Keep going using caffeine and sugar. I hate how dependent I am on caffeine.
But if I don't. I don't know if I would make it through the day.
I smile and say I'm well when people ask. Because in
general I am. And then I have days like today. A busy week last week. Not
enough sleep last night. And I'm completely and utterly fucked. And when I say
not enough sleep last night. I probably had 7 and a half hours. And I can't
function. I had a meeting this morning and now. All I can think about doing is
crying. I have emails to send. Admin to do. I also have to exercise because of
my fitness plan. I have no idea how I'm going to do this.
And this. This I am sick of. And I don't know what to do.
I keep on forgetting to take my drugs. Maybe it's because I don't actually want
to be taking them. I don't. But I do. Because of the unknown. If I stop and the
leukaemic rate rises and triggers the bone marrow back into producing leukaemic cells and I don't response to the pill chemotherapy I take daily. It's another story entirely. It's
a stem cell transplant. It's living in hospital. It's having my immune system
and bone marrow destroyed. It's possibly not surviving. Or having even worse
side effects to deal with.
So really. I should just stop whinging about being tired.
Because it could be so much worse.
With love and hope,
XXX
When Katie Walks, This Simple Pair Accompany Her Side - Poem by Emily Dickinson... x.
ReplyDeleteWhen Katie walks, this simple pair accompany her side,
When Katie runs unwearied they follow on the road,
When Katie kneels, their loving hands still clasp her pious knee—
Ah! Katie! Smile at Fortune, with two so knit to thee!