I had my third chemo last Thursday (next Friday/Saturday presently). It’s been a difficult week, as I’ve learned first week after the treatment is. Also very different from the two first ones – not to mention tiresome.
Just to recollect what’s happened through the first three chemo therapies and the first week after;
First one
I felt mostly ill – like the flu. Loads of small effects from the chemo that one by one would be no big deal, but smashed together turned out to be a pain in the ass. Also, the unbelievable pain from the first shots I took. I cried like a baby from that.
Second one
Completely different from the first one. This time, I experienced the cellular fatigue, where I seriously wondered if this is what it feels like to die slowly. The most horrific physical experience of my life.
Third one
Not as horrific as the cellular fatigue, but more painful. Some odd mix between feeling ill (the flu) and chronic pain from being tired. I spent two days crying from pure fatigue.
…
So, I’m halfway through the chemo therapy now. I’ve just come out of the first week after my third treatment and the effects are subsiding – finally.
I had a reason for writing this post, and that’s a dream I realized I had couple of days ago. I’d completely forgotten about it, but remembered it for some reason.
I dreamt that I was walking around in public, completely naked. I have no idea why, just that I did. I’ve had similar dreams before, and it got me thinking about why I dream about this, specifically. And what I came up with is that I dream I am naked in public when I feel vulnerable, exposed and weak.
And I do. I do feel vulnerable and weak – constantly, all the time. Going through chemo may not be the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but it sure does a number on both body and mind. It does force me to be very present inside my body, which I’m not used to – not like this. Around New Year’s Eve last year (2021/2022) I did promise to practise on my presence and awareness – and oh, boy, am I forced to just that, just now. Obviously, I didn’t engage in it enough by myself to make a difference, so someone else decided to step in.
Despite the fact that this whole experience sucks, and I often wonder why most experiences worth having must be so difficult, I do recognize the fact that I will learn so much from this. Being present in the treatment, my mind is quite foggy and I am not able to think as clearly as I’d like – but when the treatment is finished and I begin to recover, I will for sure spend some time thinking about what I’ve learned about myself and life from this whole thing.
Come to think of it – one thing that I am presently learning, is the art of allowing. Perhaps not in the creating/manifesting perspective, but still. I have come to realize that at certain periods in my treatment (the week after chemo) I need to allow myself to eat differently than I do normally because my body needs energy on another level than usual. So I guess I could say that I am learning to listen to my body and allowing it what it needs more than I’ve done previously.
…
I am not in touch with the spirit world right now. Sometimes, I get a short glimpse, but in general – no. The door is still closed, and I am guessing because I need to learn whatever I’m supposed to learn, all by myself. The good thing is that, despite the fact that I feel weak, exposed and vulnerable, I am strong enough to do it. And I do have support – three women who help me in ways that I could never have hoped for. So I also hold enormous amounts of gratitude to these women.
Inga-Lill – she who has gone through the same journey as I am right now, and therefore knows exactly what I am going through, what I feel when, and why. I am enormously grateful for her and the support and validation I get from her. Without her, I’d be completely lost.
Marina – she who helps me by driving me to and from the hospital for treatments and other appointments. The gratitude for not having to go by bus is intense.
Maria – she who takes care of Boyo while I’m at the hospital. I don’t know what I would have done without her.
These women needs to be celebrated when this is all done. I have no idea how, but in one way or the other it needs to be done.
…
I can only imagine what I’ll learn from this in the end, but I somehow feel that one of those things may have with appreciation, gratitude and perhaps even manifesting, to do. We’ll see where I end up in the learning process – and now that I’m out of the worst week directly after treatment I can raise my head and look at it from above. This is not possible when I am forced to be so bloody physically present in my body. I hope I learn that lesson too, because this is not something I wish to go through again.
And regardless – when this is done and I’m on the other side of treatment and can continue to create my life.. I really do hope that the door to the spirit world opens up, because I want to get back in touch with everyone over there. I want to continue my journey with their help.
Oh, and another thing I’ve learned through this process is… It is quite possible to have a positive view on a whole, but feel broken, weak, exposed, vulnerable and all those things, under that positive umbrella. That’s exactly how I feel. The treatment is to prevent new tumours, so that’s all good. But it sure as hell is no fun going through the treatment. And it’s ok to feel those two things simultaneously.
