Total Exhaustion. And the Darkness.

Complete and utter total exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion where I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t do anything. That’s what hit me yesterday and seems to be continuing today and for some reason I can’t snap out of it. I want to be Nicolas Cage to Cher on Moonstruck so she can get in my face, slap me hard and tell me to “snap out of it”! But no such luck. I think I am going to have to wait it out on this one. I don’t think I can just snap out of it like I want. And it totally sucks. It’s been one week since my last chemo and that nadir is kickin’ in and there is really just nothing I can do. I am trying to eat right, get a little exercise, which isn’t much considering I can barely walk up the stairs, rest at least 8 hours a night…but nothing seems to be helping.

The hard part of the total exhaustion is that there is a deep darkness on the otherside that I don’t want to find myself slowly slipping into. I say I am so tired and people echo their feelings of exhaustion also. While am not unsympathetic to other people’s tiredness and plights; I have to say that it is frustrating because an average person’s exhaustion can’t even come close to a cancer patient’s total exhaustion. It’s beyond what you or even I could have envisioned. Your body simply doesn’t work, your arms don’t respond to commands, you drop everything, and the stairs are the most daunting task you can ever imagine facing and it takes all the energy you can muster just to climb a flight of stairs. Then you hope you can remember why they heck you were headed upstairs once you get there.

Typing is incredibly challenging. I keep forgetting what I was going to type and then I type the wrong thing and believe it or not, will actually doze off in the middle of a sentence, Now, that is BAD, especially when I have spent my life as a secretary.

But the scariest part is the overpowering sorrow that is lurking just the other side of the darkness. I can see it over there, reaching out for me, trying to trap me in its sticky web. The sorrow that would threaten to completely overwhelm me and make me wonder why I would want to keep on doing this. The sorrow that makes me wonder if this treatment is worth the remote possibility of a cure? Is the cure really a cure? Is the cure waiting for me on the other side of all this misery or am I doing this all for nothing. I want to believe with all my heart that there is good intentions and positive outcomes awaiting me. That if I just persevere to the other side this nightmare, it will be over and I will find myself happy and healthy and going back to a life of my own making that includes all the people I love, my family a job…All the wonderful average things that life has to offer that are so fulfilling to me.

But I have to confess, there is that piece of me that is scared and wondering. That piece that calls out to God and just asks that this be over, whatever “over” may be; be it this world or the next. I ask God; please get me through this misery. Get me back to a life that I can live, one that doesn’t involve all this sickness.

I lay on the couch yesterday, unable to move. I wanted water, but was unable to get up and fill my glass, I wanted food, but the thought of trying to prepare anything was beyond my realm of abilities. So I just laid there on the couch, TV in the background and prayed to live long enough to make it to the Bahamas with my daughter. Then I prayed to make it on a simple trip just me and my son and then I prayed that it all be over, one way or the other, that this could all just be done. I am not ready to cross over, but I am ready to be done with this treatment. I am tired, I am sad, I am overwhelmed, I am alone. You are all with me, but when it comes to the everyday tasks, I am alone. Feeding the dogs, watering the flowers (which I do love to do when I have the energy), cleaning up the kitchen, (my dishes from yesterday are STILL in the sink which never happens around here), taking out the trash, cleaning up after the dogs. You get the picture. The things that everyone does everyday and takes for granite. A whole host of simple tasks that become overwhelming tasks when I can barely get up from the couch. I thought about calling someone over to help last night, but didn’t want to bother anyone, and I was hoping that Mike would come by; he knew I was having a bad day, but no such luck; he had his soccer matches and went home. So, all the tasks were left for today, which is fine, they will or will not get done… In the words of a generation. Whatever. I mean really, who cares?

I just am struggling to stay away from the darkness. I fear the darkness. I don’t want to even be near its ugly presence. I want to stay in the light to matter how dimly lit, light is light and that is where I want to be. For I fear if I slip into that dark place, it will take a monumental effort to come back and I don’t know if I have it in me right now to make it back. So pray for a change in heart and attitude and a little bit of energy. I don’t care if I can run up the stairs; I just want to be able to make it up the stairs. I don’t care if I’m jumping for joy while cooking, but I would like to have the energy to stand there and heat up some soup! It’s truly the little things that keep me from sliding. The warm sunshine, the smile of my friends, the voice of my daughter, a visit from my son. Those will keep me here; I will NOT fall over that edge, no matter how much it taunts me. I’m staying here, in the sunshine, with all of you.

Thanks for helping to keep me there.