The sound of moving water has always been very soothing to me. Every night when I go to bed and every morning when I wake up I hear the splashing of circulating water in our koi pond. At 9 am our pool pump starts and the sound of the pool fountain and waterfall takes over. It’s fascinating that such a simple thing as water hitting water can be so calming. My favorite sound when I’m in a forest is the swishing sound of treetops in the wind. I’m now sitting in the couch in the backyard drinking a caffe latte. I hear the pool fountain splashing, the palm treas swishing, the chime faintly dinging, and the high pitched buzzing of hummingbirds fighting over the never-ending supply of sugar water we provide for them. While sitting here listening to all the sounds around me I try to ignore the sounds inside me. My body is rather noisy these days. I do not at all appreciate the noises it’s making. I feel like all my cells are crying for attention and help. When I stop what I’m doing and listen I notice a buzzing feeling in my legs that eases up and calms down. It’s like I have to check in every now and then to tell the cells to relax and stop freaking out, and that it will be all right in the end. I get weirdly appreciative of the loud sound of the lawnmower that our gardener just started in the front yard. I smell cut grass. A smell that reminds me of childhood summers. Good memories. 

I’m contemplating moving indoors so I won’t be attacked by a heap of tiny fallen palm flowers blown off the ground when the gardener soon walks through our backyard with his leaf blower. I remember the big smile on his face when he last year showed us his new shiny powerful leaf blower. I’m hesitantly moving my feet off the couch and into my crocs. I always walk barefoot at home, but I need a bit more cushioning these days. The bottom of my feet are very sore and they are getting a good hit of early stage hand and foot syndrome. My oncologist said that I immediately need to contact him if I get blisters because he then might need to reduce the dose I’m taking. I have no blisters yet, but it sort of feels like I’m about to get it on the bottom of my big toes and the ball of the foot by my big toes. One part of me wants to immediately email him to let him know that I’m sure I have blisters so that I can get a lower dose. The other part of me does not want to contact him. I know that if the cancer ever returns I will never ever forgive myself for needing a reduced dose now because I wasn’t able to handle the full dose. The thought of what might happen in the future freaks me out. I have to keep repeating to myself that no-one knows what tomorrow brings – lets not ruin today by worrying about the future – “maybe not so”.

As expected, for each cycle the side effects increase in intensity. I am more fatigued and I can’t stay standing up for a long time before I get faint and start sweating. During the daytime I am now spending most of my time on the couch. I have a short window of a couple of hours mid day that I can sit up in a chair and do whatever needs to be done. Last cycle at this time I needed to push myself to be more active. I noticed three weeks ago that I felt worse when I let the fatigue take control. It is hard though to overcome the faintness, dizziness, and plain old malady and push myself out of it. And now on top of it all – hurting feet. I’m extra upset about the hurting feet. One of the things that kicks me out of the couch and that makes me feel better is going out for walks, but now that hurts. I’m taking a deep breath, sighing, and thinking of things I can put in my shoes to provide more cushioning that might help. Crazy how my feet are both numb from the neuropathy and sensitive from the hand foot syndrome – at the same time. (Thinking about expressive words that I shouldn’t write.)

I know I have not updated the blog very often the last couple of months. As I’ve said before, I am in a strange numb bubble where I lose connection with time. My mood is also sort of indifferent in a strange way. I’m hugely sensitive to everything that goes on inside me, but then at the same time just observing what goes on around me where I feel like I’m not really participating. I guess you can say I’m grossly self centered. I belive this state is of course due to the fact that I am utterly exhausted physically and mentally. I have reached a saturation point of what I can take. And I am also on medication that dulls my nerves to control the neuropathy.

I can’t wait to reach the finish line! I have two more weeks of this cycle where the last week is with no chemo drugs. Then on Nov 5th I get my last infusion and start the two last weeks of pills. One week after that I am officially done with four times three weeks of chemotherapy. And amazingly enough the last day is Thanksgiving. What a welcoming coincidence. That is a Thanksgiving I will be giving thanks more than I have ever been. I am so happy that I can celebrate with my family – socially distanced – in our beautiful backyard. I am very sad that my parents can’t be here like they have been nine out of ten Thanksgivings since we moved here, but perhaps we can have them on a monitor at the end of the table.