Today was one of the harder days I have had in the past few weeks. Everything looked and felt different because I barely slept. I am noticing a trend that I have a hard time coming off of drugs after surgical procedures. This has happened twice now with both the lymph node and bone marrow biopsies. After both procedures, I had terrible night sleeps.
When you have Cancer sleep can be everything. Before Cancer, I was used to running on 6-7 hours of sleep ( 8 on a great day). I have never been a huge sleeper the way some of my closest friends have been. I was always known for going to bed on the earlier side, and waking up at the crack of dawn to start my day. I love the mornings, and always enjoy getting a head start before the rest of the world wakes up. I have been this way since I was 10 - and not much has changed since.
Since Cancer, I find I need a lot more sleep and I feel a lot less rested. Now if I don't get 7-8 hours minimum I am in bad shape. Last night I slept 3-4 hours, and woke up with a dull aching pain in my tush.
Poor little tush!!!!
I was a complete wreck today. My perspective was notably different and I hated it. I started to feel like a voodoo doll, being constantly poked and prodded. I began focusing on all the bruising on my arms from the weeks of giving blood, taking injections and being hooked up to an iv. I looked and felt like a heroin addict- complete with sunken eyes and track marks.
If you were to look closely at my belly, you would notice that I have needle marks all over the area below my navel. Every night after a long day at the hospital I have to give myself shots for my upcoming egg harvest. Psychologically its tough to inject myself after a long day of feeling poked and prodded.
I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders today. I was beaten down and worn out.
After an ultra sound, meeting with a dietician, social worker, CT scan- I came home, ate a chocolate chip cookie, and drifted off to dreamland.
I woke up from my nap, still symptomatic, but mentally was in a very different state.
Cancer had her way with me this morning. She took advantage of the fact that I wasn't rested, and preyed upon my insecurities, heightened my senses, and started to make me feel sorry for myself. This afternoon when I woke up, I still had the headache ( and the tush ache) but the world looked different. Cancer seemed more manageable this afternoon, and less powerful.
I am realizing that sleep not only is physically necessary but is the best medicine for me mentally.
I was told by a friend that beating Cancer is 70% mental, and 30% physical. Now that I am slowly learning her tricks, I will make sleep ( and beating her ass) a priority.
Tomorrow's a new day-until then- dreamland here I come.