Chemotherapy & The Clock
Today I finish my third week of chemo and tomorrow is treatment #4. I'll save the actual
report of this week for my chemo journal.
But there is one thing that won't be there, since
that is sort of a nuts and bolts
report: my sense of time in these last three weeks.
It is agonizingly slow.
Like most people, days of the week used to be marked more by common events, such as it being when one of my favorite TV shows played. Or I might get up and really not care which day it is. But now the meaning of the days has changed and I am now keenly aware of each one and its relation to the next.
My week now begins with Thursday, when I get my chemo. Then it is Friday, when I have to prepare for Saturday and Sunday. They used to be "the weekend" but now they are the days when the side effects kick in and the bouts of pain occurred. Then Monday, the last day with the steroids let-down. Tuesday seems to be the lighter day but it means Wednesday is looming, when I have to take the 200 capsules of calcitriol and finish the day with the steroids, in preparation for Thursday, when it all starts again.
We've all had periods of time when days crawled and it was an achievement to make it to another. Sometimes it is an achievement to make it to the next hour.
I once heard am amusing definition of time: it is what we use to keep everything from happening at once.
I just wonder why it happens most with pain, worry, distress or grief.
My Chemotherapy Journal