One of those things I always forget 1.25.06
"In the country of pain we are each alone. "~ May Sarton
Note: This post was written on January 25, 2006. I can't figure out how to integrate it into the rest of the January posts.
What hurts? Everything.
I decided to share with my therapist a journal entry from one of my previous chemo treatments. I was puzzled by my immersion in pain; I couldn’t remember how the bigness and smallness of my pain permeated my consciousness. I remember now.
I received my latest chemo treatment on Tuesday. I’ve now entered phase two of my treatment. I don’t recall anyone telling me about Phase Two. I’m not sure whether that’s a blessing or something I should be very angry about. I am very angry,
The new regimen is a series of drugs infused one at a time, which ends up taking about two and a half hours. I get an emetic so that the inevitable nausea won’t be so bad. Then a steroid. Then some other chemo drug, a bright red color, that seeps out through urine. It may also cause mouth sores, so I’m drinking what feels like gallons of water which just increases nausea. That’s one of my favorite things about cancer treatment. At some point, it just starts to seem funny.
I was expecting nausea, because they sent me home with an armload of anti-nausea drugs. I just forgot about the pain. I can’t really identify any place on my body that doesn’t hold some small bit of pain. It’s difficult to think of anything else. It’s difficult to accurately describe. If it were sharp or excruciating pain, it might well be easily dismissed. I have amazing abilities to put pain out of my consciousness. I have a high threshold for pain. My theory is that children who are physically and sexually abused numb their pain in order to endure. This nagging general achiness is just more annoying that difficult. I’d like to dismiss it, believe I should bed able to dismiss it, but I can’t.
