How to Survive a Menty B breaks down medical trauma and illness-induced PTSD with me, a therapist with both PTSD and a Ph.D.
This is my survival guide, my survival story, and my survivor legacy.
How to Survive a Menty B is a library for people navigating the upheaval of medical trauma and PTSD. Each week, I explore a new topic and dissect the role of medical trauma in daily life and relationships.
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The Ghosts In My Bones Woke Up Today
Medical Trauma Journal
Friday 8/27/2021
Chemo 6 is done. A full dose of Taxol and some Neulasta for the road. The IV bag of Bendaryl did nothing to make me sleepy or relaxed.
I kept my hands and feet on ice for 3 hours to (hopefully) prevent neuropathy. It felt nice with as many hot flashes as I’ve had lately.
Sunday 8/29/2021
The ghosts in my bones woke up today. It feels like the flu and a hangover simultaneously, but then a layer of something else I’ve never felt before.
Death put its icy grip around every single one of my bones and squeezed. Hard. All day long. The pain builds throughout the day and gets worse at night.
Every Saturday, I will have a fever, and my face will get flushed on top of all this. It happens the day after Taxol and lasts for about 24 hours. It feels like an allergic reaction combined with a fever and rollercoaster wooziness.
Monday 8/30/2021
Fatigue and bone pain.
Tuesday 8/31/2021
Fatigue, vomiting, and bone pain.
I had to call in about the side effects today. They are the worst they have ever been. My doctor encouraged me to come in for fluids, but I don’t have the energy for 3 hours in the car and the process of getting fluids even if I’m not alone.
But if I can’t get water and food down, I’ll have to go in tomorrow.
Wednesday 9/1/2021
I vomited early this morning but then was able to get the meds organized, and I was able to eat.
I didn’t want to go in for an iv and anti-nausea meds, but she said id have to if I couldn’t eat or drink. Luckily today, I could. Yesterday I wasn’t even able to keep the water down. Nothing.
Dr. Katie said we need to talk about reducing the doses because it seems like the side effects of chemo will be cumulative for me.
I’m not taking that entirely to rule, but I get what she means. It’s not great around here. I am struggling and can’t keep up with anything.
Thursday 9/2/2021
I am tough, so I don't tend to notice how lousy shit is till it gets a little better. And then I can say, “Oh damn, look how crazy that was.”
I feel slightly better today, but damn, I am not good right now.
I talked to Matt, and we need an extra someone here with us all the time to help until it's not so bad.
I hate that I need that. I feel like a child asking for help. But I have been useless since I started the Taxol, and Matt’s gotta stay busy working.
I asked my parents to work it out so that one of them would be here with us most of the time until I got through chemo. I'm grateful I get to see my parents parenting me and can be thankful and appreciative of it. I was not all that grateful when I was younger. I can be now.
But today, this medicine has a way of pushing me to the edge and making me wonder if I can do this at all.
Ugh, maybe this lash of pain means it’ll let up soon.
Friday 9/3/2021
Fuck, the fatigue is real. The nausea is back. Throw on hot flashes and cognitive deficits. Oh, and constipation, and we’ve got the Friday night special.
Sunday 9/5/2021
Outwardly you might not know. I mean, you can tell that I’m sick just by looking at me. But outwardly, you definitely wouldn’t know what this is like for me.
I feel so incongruent like I should be yelling all the time. Where does my rage live?
Writing is the only thing that can get it out of me and let it have a place to live. It makes all my feelings real. They exist. They existed. It fucking happened to me.
I almost died. I still might.
Monday 9/6/2021
Today was a hard day.
I am still attached to feeling better, which means that I feel disappointed on top of still feeling bad.
I wrote, worked out, and got some sun. I talked to Matt and cried. This shit’s a lot.
Tuesday 9/7/2021
I am torturing myself by watching this woman die on Instagram.
I can't remember when it started, but this woman is dying post by post, and I shouldn't watch it. But I feel like I need to.
My argument against myself is that she deserves a witness. And that part is genuine. But it doesn't have to be me.
I don’t know her, but the presence of death is so close. It makes me a little crazy lately.
Ok. Unfollow.
I can't have anything making this worse. And I am pressuring myself because I don't feel better yet and need to feel better so I can convince them to let me take the full strength of Taxol on Friday.
I felt so fucking bad last week, and I'm not recovering as well as I thought. I am not afraid of how bad I will feel. I just have to try.
I am angry and afraid.
Wednesday 9/8/2021
I didn’t wake up in a puddle of sweat, which is good. He had some spontaneous fun.
Things are ok-ish today.
I want to ensure that I feel good and that all goes well on Friday. Then, I'm ready for the next fight with the side effects.
Thursday 9/9/2021
I had an excellent day before chemo: acupuncture, Pilates, and therapy. And I got everything on my list without getting overwhelmed.