Skip to main content

Winken, Blinken and Nodding Off.


Oh cancer, only because of you can I recapture my youth.

My hair is at the same growth stage it was 61 years ago, my tumor’s position makes wearing a diaper a necessity at times and best of all – I have not taken so many naps since toddlerhood!

Are you tired during your cancer battle?

I am.

Not that I’m in a constant state of exhaustion, but my eyelids frequently droop as yawns escape my mouth.  Then it becomes far from a pretty sight.

I blame the change in meds.

By my fourth chemo session, I required stronger pain medications than the occasional ibuprofen. My oncology gynecologist prescribed oxycodone to be given while I received my infusion cocktail. Coupled with Benadryl, the antihistamine used to avoid nausea, within minutes I was out.

Upon awakening and noting the dampness of my front and grogginess I asked the nurse if I had slept for long.

‘Oh honey, you were sound asleep for at least an hour,’ she said as a small smile crossed her face.

‘Are we talking dozing delicately or napping noisily with mouth open and drool and snores pouring forth?’

Her grin broadened.

‘Oh, the latter, definitely the latter.’

After extracting a promise should I again fall into such disarray I would be awakened, I pulled a blanket over my head and returned to Benadryl.

At first, sleeping 10 -12 hours or worse needing to take a nap shortly after waking up from an 8-hour stretch was disheartening. It made me feel a wastrel. My prognosis does not allow for wasted time, or so I thought.

It was my oldest friend, who calmly listened to my concerns as she does to all of them before proclaiming my body obviously needed rest. Give into it, she suggested.

So, I have.

To combat the ridiculous guilt about being lazy, I often fade off to sleep while watching 
documentaries. Scientists still debate if learning is possible while catching zzzz’s. All I know is I can now confidently discuss the differences and similarities between Marx, Nietzsche and Freud, create kimchi and name a plethora of European royalty related to Queen Victoria.

I’ve accepted my eyebags are hereditary and no amount of sleep will change that. I do feel better, am rarely stressed and my condition is favorably noticed by the doctor.

Now I know – naps are good.  Relax and enjoy them if you can. Think how much good they are doing for your body and spirit.

I would write more positive aspects, but yawns are increasing, and my bed is calling my name.







Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Gone with the Wind or How Cancer stole my Hair, but not my Resolve

June 2016    April 2018     May 2018 In 2016, I underwent a full hysterectomy and was assured the small cancerous tumor on my uterus had be eradicated without any further treatment like radiation or chemo. Grateful for the fantastic outcome, I was especially delighted at not having to lose my hair. Sure, to avoid regular shaving of underarm and leg hair sounded terrific. But to bid adios to my silver mane was a step, I didn’t want to consider. Blessed with terrific, thick and wavy follicles since childhood, many had complimented me as it changed from its original platinum blonde through the brunette years to the arrival of grey strands that first appeared in my early 30s. Even then, the new color ringed my face, causing people to think it was highlights. My hairdresser told me to tell everyone, that he and not Mother Nature, was responsible. But by 2018, things drastically changed. A stage 4 tumor now invaded my body. Requiring both ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Pesky Prednisone

Chamomile  tea warming by my bedside while a massaged glob of  lavender-infused  lotion disappears into my hands. Meditation music at the mere touch of a button ready to lull me into deep and restful slumber.  Insert diabolical laughter here. Too bad the steroids, I am currently taking to combat the nasty  Rheumatoid arthritis   side effects of Keytruda, are working against my desired result. That pesky Prednisone primed to keep me upright and awake into the morning's early hours is my new norm. Aside from the above, I've tried the old standards like reading in bed, wearing an eye mask and counting sheep. The latter proved really bad idea. Prednisone also sends my appetite soaring. Visions of fluffy ovis quickly transformed into succulent grilled lamb chops before they cleared the fence. I have no need to complain. Despite retaining constant under eye bags, steroids have failed to give me an over abundance facial hair or muscles....
Post a Comment
Read more

Who Wants to be a Billionaire?

Just invent a good-tasting oral liquid that people have to drink before taking contrast dye for a CT scan. Today was my fourth experience. Each of them have featured "cocktails" of varying tastes that all ultimately taste like boiled socks. Truthfully, I've never tasted boiled sock water, but this glop is what I imagine it is made from. BTW should you invent the sure-fire moneymaker, just remember to send me checks for being an inspiration.
Post a Comment
Read more