Green juice, blue Monday…

I’m too fucking tired to type this. 

I can only assume the blood I had last week was not enough and if I’m honest I feel worse than I ever have.

I don’t have the energy to do anything. My eyes feel heavy like I’ve not slept for weeks, I feel absolutely disgusting and all I can do is lay around all day like a sloth hoping that tomorrow I’ll feel better. 

When I feel like this I start imagining that this isn’t the chemo fatigue or the anaemia, maybe I’m actually dying. I’ve never died before so I don’t actually have a clue what it feels like?  Funnily enough living does not feel good right now, it’s not enjoyable and feels like a chore. I hate saying that because life is so precious, but today I’m not coping with these side effects and this terrible soul destroying exhaustion. I feel like my body is not playing ball at all which makes me annoyed with it. I nurture it with green juices and fruit and vegetables. I gave up alcohol for it!  Memo to body: Pull your bloody finger out and start working for me! I know I should exercise but this is near impossible right now. I don’t even have enough oxygen to walk around the house. I figure I’ll wait until I feel better.

So I took a photograph today. That’s me.  I look ghastly. But that’s the reality of shitty cancer. Someone asked me today what my reality of breast cancer is and here it is in a picture. 4pm on the sofa still in my dressing gown. Not dressed because I can’t work due to the extent of my cancer and the fact I’m always in hospital or not feeling well. Hardly any hair, eyebrows or energy, sipping on a green juice hoping it will make me feel better. (So much hope in a handful of organic spinach and an apple). Other days I will feel better and look pretty, but this above is how I feel more often than I want to.  

You know, I’m really surprised at the amount of women being diagnosed with mets lately. It makes me sad and angry. Perhaps it just seems more frequent these days because I’m in the mets club but sometimes it feels like there are so many of us now. I wonder how people view me now being 6 months in to this journey? Do they see me as an experienced metavivor now? Am I an advocate? It still is quite new to me in a way and I wonder if the shock ever wears off or whether you ever truly admit it to yourself at all the whole way through? Maybe that’s just me? Probably…

I’m forever stumbling on people’s bios and Instagram accounts which read “I beat cancer.”Or “I kicked cancers arse.” Is it best to be positive and hopeful or are people setting themselves up for disappointment or a big fall later on? I hope not. I was one of those proud people 1,2 years out! I would shout it from the rooftops how lucky I was and then I was told I had mets. 

The cruel thing about cancer is that’s it’s a disease and none of us technically beat it, not really. For some of us it comes back, for some of us it kills us, and for a lucky few the disease stays dormant for good and they remain cancer free. There’s nothing wrong with telling everyone we’ve beaten it-in my mind I bloody well had and I didn’t go through all that treatment for nothing. I was proud of everything I’d achieved and always so happy when I had a clear scan. But the sad reality is at least 30 percent of us or 1 in 3 won’t make it. I always tell people to try and believe they will be the lucky other 2, after all the odds are in their favour. 

It really has been a blue Monday. But there will be other Monday’s-better Mondays, I’m sure if it. X

*Me last week. (I don’t always look disgusting).

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