The journey called cancer 2

I could literally hear my heart beat as I was advised on my care plan. I was to start chemotherapy. A port was going to be placed on my chest for ease of administration but I practically begged to have it sooner because I wanted to start the treatment ASAP.

I had my first chemotherapy intravenously and it infiltrated into my tissue, which has left me with a scar on my hand that I wear with pride. I love all my scars because it shows my strength. ( I have been asked only 20 times if I am an IV drug addict😂😂 because of the scar on my arm but nah drugs ain’t my thing, I got enough of other vices.)

 

Afterward, my port was placed on my chest and I got my shots from my chest.

Then the effects of chemotherapy started. Oh dear, I thought I was ready but I wasn’t! My throat was practically burnt from the inside, so burnt you could see my veins were noticeably inflamed from outside. This also meant I couldn’t eat. Honestly, I love food so much. It was a psychological torture for me. I wasn’t going to give up though. I formed a habit of going to the internet to look at pictures of food… For some reason that worked for me. ( I still do it to date😂 old habits die hard right?)

Then my hair! My hair! Oh, Lawd! It started falling off in little bits and I thought I could manage it. I started wearing wigs. Then I woke up one morning and noticed a large chunk of hair on my pillow😭.

I was very emotional about this addition to my woes. Well, I decided to shave it all off. I needed motivation, so I called my childhood friend on facetime and she talked me all through shaving my hair. It was really consoling hearing her say I looked good bald. It uplifted my spirit and boosted my ego. Never underestimate the goodness of kind words.

The relationship at home had gone from manageable to bad at this point. Insults were directed to me at will like I chose to have cancer. Anyway, I made a conscious effect not to lose focus and concentrate on my treatment. I was home all bald and my now ex-husband got back from his job. His words were ”you look like an alien, you scare me…you should have some scarf on.” Talk about my ego plummeting? It dropped to zero. ( I honestly didn’t want to look like a character out of E.T- the Extra-Terrestrial)

 

 

My skin texture went from beautiful to horrible. I couldn’t hide my hands and nails( how I wish it was winter so I could wear gloves.) I lost my toenails. My Palm was darkened..you may wonder why I would be so consumed in my physical appearance when I had cancer cells trying to grow in me? I speak from my experience that depression is spiraling. You just keep deteriorating constantly.

I can’t put into words the thoughts I had at the time. I didn’t know what to worry about at this point… My life and health? The fact I couldn’t eat? My looks? My loss of energy? I fought with so many emotions. My friends were in Nigeria and London at the time, people who cared about me were not near. I didn’t have physical support but I’m forever indebted to my friends and brothers who called me every day.

It was chemotherapy for every three weeks until I was scheduled for a bilateral mastectomy.

Stay with me as I chronicle my experiences and feel free to share stories of you or your loved ones.

 

#Notjustsurviving,thriving

#Feelforlumpsandsaveyourbumps

#screwcancer

#fightstrong