How are you feeling today?

How are you feeling today really? Well, pretty turd actually.

I’ve been struggling to think of what to write the past couple of weeks. My 2nd cycle of chemo has been really grim – the state of the world in general even grimmer. The remaining patches of stubble on my scalp packed it in last week and said goodbye to my noggin for the foreseeable. I didn’t get much in the way of fresh air for about 5 days straight. I couldn’t work or do much of anything thanks to a combination of extreme fatigue, nausea, and chemo brain (losing the ability to think straight or even string a coherent sentence together.) My diet consisted of non-nutritious, beige-only foods for at least a week, which my waistline ain’t too happy about. It’s not been an easy ride.

I try my best to be positive the majority of the time, and generally, I am. I’m fully aware that life is fairly dismal at the moment, and my own personal health situation is far from ideal. But then I remind myself that I don’t have a choice in the matter either way and just kind of crack on with it.

But then there are weeks, like this past week, where I want the ground to just swallow me up. I can’t get out of bed. I feel alone, helpless, numb.

Less than a month into 2021 and we’re yet to see anything close to normality. I’m exhausted, as I’m sure we all bloody are. I feel like I don’t even have the energy to form conversations anymore. Even with the closest people in my life, I feel like I don’t have anything interesting to say – I mean seriously, what is there left to talk about other than the latest series of Drag Race or what we’re having for tea tonight? It’s literally Groundhog Day. And I’m tired.

But I read something on Instagram recently that said something along the lines of:

If you can cope with cancer treatment during a pandemic, then you can pretty much cope with anything.

I think that might be my new mantra. Hear fucking hear.

I was diagnosed with cancer in a room with the breast consultant and nurse only, with no prior warning or the option to be accompanied by a loved one. I’m also shielding since I’m ~ highly vulnerable ~ so even if law allowed it, I can’t see any of my friends, or leave the house other than for dog walks and hospital appointments. I’m even spending the morning of my 27th birthday in hospital – what a change from 26-year-old blissfully unaware, wine-fuelled me! I go to all my chemo appointments alone and let me tell ya, the other patients don’t tend to be a chatty bunch. I don’t even blame them, it’s not a pleasant experience – hardly the time to ask if you’ve got any nice weekend plans.

But this isn’t a woe is me moment. It’s more that I just wanted to remind myself of the strength and resilience that I never knew I had. It’s a reminder that there are better days to come. And that I’ve literally been through hell and back these past two months but I’m still getting through it, and that’s fairly amazing.

So what if I have a breakdown when I realise my Oatly milk has ran out or if I start crying at a cute dog on an advert? That’s totally fine. Because I’m also going to have moments where I’m laughing until my stomach hurts watching my sister dance around the living room like a tit. Or when I’m reminiscing on favourite songs that remind me of uni with my girls in the group chat. Or when I feel so completely loved and made to feel like a queen by my boyfriend, who I think might be a literal angel.

I’m still not too sure what the point of this post is, but I just knew I wanted to say something and let you know that you’re not alone if you’re feeling like shit. Because me too. But we will come out of this, so take a deep breath… we got this.