The slow climb out of the hole of pain has begun.  Wednesdays are usually the day.  I am feeling a bit better.  Not great.  Not functioning but better.  And every day I will get better until I get thrown back in the hole this Tuesday.

But that is the last one.  The last Taxol chemo!

It is still the pits (pardon my pun) and I will have to climb my way out of it again but then chemo is over.  It can’t come soon enough.

My boys started school last week and things are going well.  They are really, really happy.  I know that seems strange to say, all things considered but they are children and they are resilient and they are really, really happy.  It makes me feel so glad.

But I also feel left out.

I am sitting on the sidelines.  On Monday, I think I saw the boys for all of ten minutes.  On Monday I was in so much pain that they couldn’t hug me.  I also can’t walk much.  The bottoms of my feet hurt so much.  I feel like The Little Mermaid in the actual Hans Christian Andersen story.  When the mermaid got her legs, it was also a curse.  Every step felt like a thousand razor blades.  Yeah, that’s me. Every step hurts.  Every step.

So I am in bed a lot and I am grouchy.  I hate this.

I talked to the oncology social worker yesterday about the pain among other things.  She says it happens and I shouldn’t beat myself up about it.  Because I am.  Beating myself up about it.  I am really mad at myself for even having the pain.  But the pain is real and it is there.  There is a part of me that keeps telling me it’s all in my head and that I am just being lazy.  I know where that stupid self chatter comes from but it is difficult at times to turn it off.

Yes. Really.  I am that crazy.

I think part of it is that my brain is working overtime.  See on the previous chemo, I was so out of it and sick with nausea that I didn’t do much of anything.  I slept and was foggy and sick.  But I’m not sick now, just in tremendous pain.  My mind is sharp and clear and I am bored.

But there is an end in sight.  My only problem with the end is that I get thrown in the pit of pain again.  This is truly mental and physical torture.

Monday night, i was mad at my oncologist.  I was mad at her nurses.  I was mad.  How could they keep doing this to me over and over again?  Are they inhuman.

Thing is, I know they are trying to save my life.  I know this.

The first radiation oncologist I met said he was impressed with the doses I am receiving.  He says it is my best chance.

But I am still angry and annoyed that I am having to go through this.

I was told that Taxol would be easy.  I would rather have more surgery than get more Taxol.

But I do recover every time.  I do crawl out of the pit every time no matter how far down they throw me.  And despite the being poisoned every other week this summer, I am holding up quite well.

I have not been hospitalized.

I have not had any infections.

I have not been sick outside of the side effects.  Not so much as a cold. I have had one fever but it only lasted a couple of hours.

Knock on wood.

I just have one more to go.

One more.

And my future?  I see myself walking on trails.  Walking for miles.  Then running.  It is the vision I have in my mind.  But to start, I just want to go for walks again.  I just want to be able to hug my family.  I just want to cook dinner and bake and walk my kids to school.  I just want my life back.  Really, that’s all I want.

I have marks on my fingernails.  Lines that run across the base of each one.  I now have three.  Three on each fingernail.  My husband says I am a tree.  I don’t feel like a tree.

Just one more to go.