So no doubt about it, this was a tough day. There was no break, no relief over the course of the day for my husband. He felt lousy, was light-headed, nauseous and naturally, non-communicative. He didn’t want to talk about anything, no questions, didn’t want the chatter of people around. It was like he was almost in a suspended state. The nurse came and went, but we, rather I had a chance to ask some questions. This was almost a week after his second chemo treatment – shouldn’t he be feeling better? She had taken all his vitals and done her assessment and basically said, here’s the thing – with this disease you don’t know. This looks to be all related to his chemo and his thrush and so, likely, this will be his worst day. But, and it was a big but, the thrush is a nasty thing – it makes taste go off and as a result it can making eating and drinking enough a bit of a challenge, which means tomorrow could be more of the same. So she will be back in the morning to see how he is doing. If he hasn’t improved then we call oncology and have them weigh in.
From my perspective as caregiver, this day was one of my hardest. He was shutting down and unable or unwilling to answer my questions. Didn’t care if he ate or didn’t eat, didn’t really want to drink. It was hard to get him to take his pills. It all adds up to a giant stress and causes me high anxiety – does it mean that something else is going wrong? There always is some sort of constant fear gnawing away inside of me. As I tuck him in for the night I see how fragile he has become, its a painful indication of the toil this disease has already taken on him, and we are only at the beginning of the battle. I am acutely aware of how quickly happiness can be snatched away from me. Fear is the worst thing; it’s faceless, voiceless and insidious, it creeps into your soul and steals away your joy. I have to remind myself that fear is the biggest hurdle to get over and it will be that way every day while this battle is on.