Woe Is Me
It started slowly.
Friends would ask how I was feeling, and I'd hesitate.
My supply of reflexive "Great!"s had run out, and I hadn't even noticed the needle dipping down toward Empty.
I was stuck, not knowing what to say because I didn't know how to describe the way I felt: Frustrated that my body hurt more now than during chemo or after any of the four surgeries I'd been through in the past eight months. Indignant that when I was finally starting to look well, with the promise of hair and brows and lashes, I was truly feeling ill. Unnerved that we hadn't figured out why my joints had suddenly—and it was sudden—begun to balk at the most basic of bodily demands. Drained of the energy it took not only to walk short distances but simply to get through the day—to summon the will to focus my concentration away from the persistent dull aches that accompanied every waking hour.
I usually ended up mumbling a halfhearted "Okay." Or "Not bad." Or two other equally unconvincing syllables.
I think that was my first clue that I was heading—or hobbling—toward a place where physical pain becomes emotional pain.
If you asked me how I'm feeling today, I'd have another two-syllable response:
"Depressed."
It's still halfhearted, by definition.
Unfortunately, though, it's completely convincing.
Friends would ask how I was feeling, and I'd hesitate.
My supply of reflexive "Great!"s had run out, and I hadn't even noticed the needle dipping down toward Empty.
I was stuck, not knowing what to say because I didn't know how to describe the way I felt: Frustrated that my body hurt more now than during chemo or after any of the four surgeries I'd been through in the past eight months. Indignant that when I was finally starting to look well, with the promise of hair and brows and lashes, I was truly feeling ill. Unnerved that we hadn't figured out why my joints had suddenly—and it was sudden—begun to balk at the most basic of bodily demands. Drained of the energy it took not only to walk short distances but simply to get through the day—to summon the will to focus my concentration away from the persistent dull aches that accompanied every waking hour.
I usually ended up mumbling a halfhearted "Okay." Or "Not bad." Or two other equally unconvincing syllables.
I think that was my first clue that I was heading—or hobbling—toward a place where physical pain becomes emotional pain.
If you asked me how I'm feeling today, I'd have another two-syllable response:
"Depressed."
It's still halfhearted, by definition.
Unfortunately, though, it's completely convincing.
posted by Jody Rosen Knower at 6:29 AM
3 Comments:
Jody, you never complain. You're amazing, in my book. So if you feel like whining a bit now, you go right ahead girl. You deserve it.
Re the herceptin: it does seem interesting that you only got symptoms after you stopped chemo. Makes me wonder if there was something in the chemo that inhibited whatever it is in the herceptin that causes joint pain. In my brief career with monoclonal antibody technology and immunology, I was always struck by how complicated our immune system is...and how in some cases, the very responses that are supposed to protect us become inappropriately overblown and end up hurting us instead.
So, given that chemo is an immunosuppressant, and joint pain can be caused by one of those inappropriate overblown immune reactions, maybe they were keeping each other in check while you were on chemo. But now that you're just on the herceptin, I wonder if they can figure out some other medicine (yea,just what you wanna hear) to counteract (in a nicer way than chemo) whatever reaction your body is having to that monoclonal antibody cocktail. If that is indeed the culprit.
OK, well, I'm no doctor, of course. But it seems too much of a coincidence that your troubles with herceptin started when the chemo ended. Hope you can get some more answers about all this SOON.
In the meantime, just keeping looking at the photos of your oh-so-grand trip to the Pacific NW!
Lots of love,
Torre
I don't know that praise is any help when you're feeling depressed, but I wanted to convery to you what a totally incredible woman you are. If depressed is what is happening under the circumstances I am not surprised. There is only so much a body and a spirit can take before it breaks a bit and then comes back stonger for it. You will get over this hurdle and be and an even MORE amazing person. Good lord, what will we all do then?! Hang in there. xo, Abby
Some pretty bad jokes See below
A man walks into a bar....ouch!!!
Even worse
How do you get Rosie O'Donnell into a bathing suit?
Hint: s in sky f in way.
answer
---------
there's no F in way (F'n way)!!!!
(heee heee I know pretty cheesy)
Hang in there chicky. You've been through so much and have a right to feel this way. Just remember your family and friends are here with you. Cheering you on. Can you hear them?
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