Through the Lens of a Chemo Haze

A haze clouds my thinking today.  Argh!  It’s frustrating!

I’m agitated, frustrated. Irritable.

I know it will pass.

My mind is not connecting with my body today.  There seems to be a disparity between them.  I am disconnected.  I am confused.  I am in a chemo-haze.  I want to “do”, but I don’t know “how”.  Do I open my eyes or close them?  My thoughts spin around and around.  My brain burns.

“Focus on doing one thing, Stacey”, I say to myself.  I can feel it’s been a good day if I can do “one” thing.  But – what?  Argh!  Frustrating.

“Write, Stacey!”  That seems to help.  I write to work through the haze – but it’s pretty thick today.

My veins feel empty, yet I feel the blood course through them.

I am still.  I am frozen.  I’m dazed.  I don’t know what to do with myself.

It is quiet.  I need a distraction.  I want so much to “do”.  I don’t know where to start.

My emotions are running circles around my thoughts to tie them up and leave them strapped, stranded, disarmed.

And then – all of a sudden – I am back again.

I need to process what just happened.  I’m agitated – too agitated to wait for understanding.  I want to jump to opinion without regard for the fall.  I am anxious but I don’t know why.

I swirl.  I spiral.  I gasp.

Start.  Stop?  Which one first?

I rest.  I breathe.  I watch.  My eyes are open but I’m not seeing.  My mind is awake, but my thoughts are asleep.  Argh!  Frustrating.

I’m in a chemical haze – fogged up with chemo.  I want clarity.  I want to run, but I need to walk first.

I’m done – but just beginning.  I look to my future, afraid of losing the past.

Forward, backward.  Just keep going.

Hot.  Cold.  Here.  There.

I swirl.  I spiral.  I gasp.

Don’t look back!  Don’t look ahead.  Hold on – it’ll pass.  Argh!  Frustrating!

Hold on – it’ll pass.

Hold on – it’ll pass.

About inmycorner

This blog began as an opportunity to tell my Dad's stories. I sat with him and the computer and together we told stories. It was a wonderful way to get to know Dad. He was 9. He and Mom had a wonderful life together and since she passed away a year and a half before him - Dad was ready to join her. I no longer tell his stories but have found stories of my own. The impetus to resume this blog was the discovery that I had stage 4 ovarian cancer. Since blogging had been so therapeutic for my dad and I to get through our grief, I felt maybe this would be a good outlet to process my situation. I also hoped it may serve as an outreach to anyone else who is facing this very ominous journey. So far, so good.
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17 Responses to Through the Lens of a Chemo Haze

  1. And it will pass. In my own experience, those waves of confusion/depression are like clouds that roll over, but eventually blow away and leave you in the sunshine again.

  2. Don’t let go! that fog is just another veil. Be well, and blessed!

    • inmycorner says:

      OH, Barney – it is always so good to hear from you and know you are on my side. Thank-you my friend. I’m hanging in there! I am struggling that it is the end – but I’m done done!

  3. kiwiskan says:

    I don’t think it’s just the chemo – sometimes when we reach a goal we’ve been aiming towards for a long time there’s a real sense of let-down, confusion, because we are in that no-man’s land before our new life and goals are set…

  4. Gwen K says:

    Remember the lessons you learned from round one chemo – “slow and steady” on the road to recovery. Goal setting doesn’t need to be done in one day (or even a week). Just let the ideas and thoughts percolate.

  5. And here you are Stacey……”done” with the chemo. It is just having it’s last go at you. And you, you will take every minute stepping away from it. Leaving it behind. You will step out of that haze. And wow….look at you. Just look.

  6. pepe says:

    Finally you are done with your long awaited ‘chemo’….continue to take care and take everything slow…happy a good day and blessed life then 🙂

  7. I felt great to have finished my chemo and radiation but that was over a year ago. Chemo kills a lot of things beside the cancer. For whatever reason my ambition, strength and stamina are not like they used to be, yes I am quite a bit older than you but should be in better shape but I’m not what I used to be. Last time I saw my oncologist I asked when do I get it all back and he said it can take time but everyone is different. I go back to the Dr. with blood work next week and hope he can do something for me. You deserve a big hug for your handling of your treatments and documenting everything so beautifully along the way in this blog that I have followed all along.When you are up to it we must get together and have a big hug and chat about the cancer experience.

  8. Gallivanta says:

    Sending Hugs and strength to help with the holding on. 🙂

  9. RoSy says:

    Hope you are having better days now dear Stacey.

  10. Such an amazing post. It is stories like these that motivate me to continue researching safer treatment options for cancer. Love hearing stories like this because it helps Mr stay inspired.

    • inmycorner says:

      Oh, I am so glad! We need your help – honestly – bless you for doing work in the field of cancer research. Glad this story motivated you… really glad!

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