This 'fatigue' that I'm experiencing is just draining the life outta me, it's ridiculous! If I'm going somewhere that means I'm going to be on my feet for more than a few hours, I have to rest the day before & then the day after. I don't mean that I'm out partying all the time - noooo way! Far from it! In fact, I was getting worried that I was developing agoraphobia cos I haven't been far at all. And ok, I'm only eleven weeks post op so let's face it, I'm bound to be tired after a good night out (who isn't?!) No, this is a different kind of tiredness.
It doesn't matter how much sleep I get, I still feel knackered. It's having a knock on effect too; I'm finding it hard to motivate myself into doing anything. Anything at all. 'Fatigue' is definitely getting the better of me. And apparently, I can expect this tiredness to last anywhere between six & twelve months. How fabulous! NOT.
I'm not sleeping very well - even though I feel tired all the time. I've tried going to bed earlier, going to bed later, reading a book, making myself a milky drink, counting sheep, trying relaxation techniques, yada yada yada.......none of it's worked.
It doesn't help that I've always slept on my right side & now, it's just not comfy for me to sleep that way anymore. I don't know if it's cos there's no boob there anymore acting like a cushion; it's not particularly painful to sleep on my right side; it's just really uncomfortable & feels weird.
F*cking cancer! It's got a lot to answer for!!
So, I've resorted to having an afternoon nap. Which I've never done before. It's a habit I don't really want to get into though cos I'm going back to work on 1st June! But I feel bloody exhausted.
I'm having a 'phased return' to work over a six week period. My boss has been brilliant, she's been so supportive & she's said that if it all gets too much for me, I can reduce my hours permanently. Well - permanently until my contract ends in August! We're just going to see how it goes.
I'm actually looking forward to getting some 'normality' back in my life though. I'll be honest, my main worry about going back to work isn't that I'm worried about seeing everyone (especially now that they all know what goes on this head of mine cos of this blog!), I'm not even worried about dealing with the customers......no, I fear that I'll sleep through the alarm!
On the whole though, I think it'll do me good to get back; I need the routine. I've been getting up early to drive my daughter to the nursery she attends before school each day but, I need to do something for me now. And I've always loved my job. It's gonna be really good to catch up with everyone & have a 'normal' kind of life again!
It'll also give me something else to talk about. Yes, I spent most of Friday evening talking about f*cking cancer. Again.
I've been living, breathing & sleeping it for the past few months. I truly am, boring myself with it now. Who wants to take part in such a depressing conversation all night? I'm in real danger of boring the other t*t off myself. My mates from work must've been sick of me by the end of the night! Sorry ladies! If I met 'me' - I'd tell 'me' to shut the f*ck up & get a life. (Well, that's a lie; I probably wouldn't say it but I'd be thinking it!)
I'm definitely going bonkers being stuck at home now.
All last week I was grumpy, tired & feeling like 'I couldn't be bothered' to do anything.
I need to have some structure to my day again. But I also know that the Tamoxifen & Zoladex are contributing to how low I sometimes feel. I'm not usually such a miserable b*tch.
I've been getting quite worked up & angry too.
I've given up smoking too at long last (but I admit I was smoking on Friday evening after a few drinks). It's been three weeks now so hmmm, yes, that's
Another great discovery I've made - & another wonderful side effect of my hormone medication - is that I now have the memory & concentration span of a goldfish.
I think I've always been pretty 'on the ball'. Not so now. I've struggled to remember the simplest of things this week. Not major stuff but then again, I haven't had to remember anything 'major' yet. It's a good job I like to write lists & reminders for myself. Trouble is trying to remember where I've put the list.......
Oh yes, the effects of cancer are permeating into EVERY area of my life.
I can't even enjoy a fecking drink! I can drink - but I've found that alcoholic drinks really go to my head. Nobody's told me I can't drink on Tamoxifen or Zoladex. No, I've discovered this one myself - in quite a frightening way.
Twice now I've over indulged a little too much. And twice I've found myself on the floor, in a heap, feeling really sh*t! And the next day is ten times WORSE than suffering with anything that you might call 'the hangover from hell'. I'm making light of it now but, for someone who used to be a real die-hard, it's been a bit of a wake up call & so, so scary. It just seems that all the pleasures(!) in life have been taken away from me - along with my right boob. To the point where, I don't even want to have a drink. It's not worth the comedown the next day - or the scary blackout.
(I just want to say here: Ok, so I'm not exactly a great advertisement for the NHS, what with my smoking & drinking after having cancer! - but for f*cks sake! What next??)
So yeah, grumpy doesn't even begin describe my mood. Try 'seething with rage' instead. I can feel my anger bubbling away under the surface & yes, I've been irritable & snapping at everyone.
I've even tried to pick a fight with Albie. Albie's the bloody cat for God's sake.
All because I nearly tripped over him. It wasn't his fault. In fact, he'd been sat in the same spot in the kitchen for a good ten minutes but me, (with my brain being like a sieve at the moment), forgot he was there & nearly went ar*e over t*t.
So I screamed at him, told him he was trying to kill me, called him all the names under the sun & then had a further rant at him for about oooh, I dunno; it was a good few minutes.
Of course, he just sat there looking at me, continued to wash himself & then, when I'd finished roaring in his face, he just picked himself up, disdainfully showed me his ar*e (with his tail in the air as cats do) & jumped out of the kitchen window. So then I just felt stupid & hoped the neighbours hadn't heard me.
Oh & I nearly forgot! You're gonna LOVE this one!
I seem to be experiencing something called PMPS - post mastectomy pain syndrome.
Otherwise known as phantom breast pain. Marvellous!
So, not only do I have to deal with having no breast at all, to add insult to injury, I still feel as though I do have one & it's hurting me!
How freaky is that? It's like the pain I had in my breast before I knew that I had cancer. (& no, that wasn't just Laiken's dad getting on my t*t, I had real pain.) Cos you can get pain with breast cancer; it's not like that for everyone but, it's another complete fallacy that comes with this disease. There are so many myths surrounding breast cancer.
Take it from me, if you have any worries at all about your breasts, you need to go & get them checked out. (Now I'm turning into a one woman campaign vehicle again).
So, not the greatest time had by me last week. I've had better days.
Maybe my mood & things will change when I go back to work? I dunno.
It's my birthday soon though.
Oh yeah, actually I was trying to keep that one quiet. Thirty-sodding-nine!
It just keeps getting better & better. Pfft! Love Chez. xx
P.S: I haven't forgotten all of those people that bought me drinks on Friday!! It's not my birthday yet! Next time we're out I'll be getting the rounds in! xx
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