I closed my eyes and tears are there silently.
Can I be honest?
No matter how positive I feel inside of me most of the time—and even with the good news I wrote in my last blog, that the Cancer is Shrinking—some days, sometimes it’s sooooo miserably hard, and I feel that getting chemo sucks.
I feel lots of guilt, and I feel like a burden to my husband, Eric. I get jealous of everyone who is enjoying life as I check Facebook, Instagram, etc., and everything irritates me!!!
I finished #4 round chemo. It was the hardest, most painful time for me to go through. After this round, I felt so damn weak, and I got depressed. My red blood cell (RBC) and hemoglobin (LabDAQ) levels got too low; that was the reason I was so weak and fatigued. I had to get another blood transfusion.
I have had PTSD since this whole cancer came from a blood transfusion in 2001 when I had a car crash in Arizona and was in a coma for three days. I was injured so badly, the doctor said I’d never walk again. I was in a wheelchair for three years, and it took a long time for me to overcome it. But what I did not know at the time was that the blood transfusion gave me hepatitis C and led to cancer I have now.
After round #2 of chemo, when I was told that I had to have a blood transfusion for the first time since 2001, I freaked out. I got so scared and could not think about anything.
I had to do deep meditation and hypnosis (by Jessica Porter) to calm down and make sense of receiving a blood transfusion to save my life. It did help my RBC and LabDAQ normalize, and I felt better, with my strength back again. One problem I had was that it gave me a rash all over my face for about one week, like when I eat sugar or dairy, so you know the blood I received was not a macrobiotic person’s blood—hahaha!
This second time receiving a blood transfusion, I was told my RBC was way too low—more than the last time. I am weaker than ever. I was not scared to receive the blood transfusion this time since the last time helped me a lot. There is always a risk, but I had no choice and there was one bit of good news: Eric donated his blood this time for me since he has the same blood type and it worked I did not get rush this time.
The blood test results were also good after the blood transfusion again, but I am still weak and very fatigue and did not get any better day this time. I only feel a little better one hour or so everyday so I go out to my garden (watering my flowers and herbs), be with my animal family and talk to Eric for a little bit.
When I get this weak I am scared and sad, and I am unable to think of good things. I feel that I may never get better. Besides all the side effects I have already been having, there are new ones: pain all over my mouth, nothing tasting good, sudden sharp pain in my legs and spine, and fever. I felt so miserable from time to time, all I could do was lie down and let my tears come out.
Chemo sucks. I am not sure if my body is able to take more chemo treatments – I have two more to do.
I noticed that when I was quiet, I could hear a buzzing noise in my head. It was like an insect noise; I was trying to remember what the sound was. It was like a quicker version of a cicada sound; a very common summer insect in Japan, it has an exceptionally loud song, produced not by stridulation, but by vibrating drumlike tymbals rapidly [Wikipedia]. This noise drove me crazy, and I was unable to sleep.
I watched Eric and felt the great stress of his fear, frustration, and sadness.
I had an argument with him over unimportant subjects.
I said to myself, “This too shall pass, this too shall pass, this too shall pass.”
One moment at a time.
I breathed out deeply and prayed and visualized to release my fear, pain, the sound of my head, and unwanted feelings of anger and sadness.
I visualized breath in good recovery, happiness, and wellness.
One moment at a time.
I breathed out deeply and prayed and visualized to release my fear, pain, the sound of my head, and unwanted feelings of anger and sadness. I visualized breath in good recovery, happiness, and wellness.
I am not sure how long it took, but the noise calmed down, and I was able to fall asleep for a while.
I gathered my strength and went out to my garden for watering.
My plumeria plant was showing beautiful flowers. The beauty of these flowers saved the moment.
Yes, chemo sucks, but the plumeria said to me, “I am here for you. Thank you for watering and taking care of me even you are going through chemo. I want you to enjoy my flowers. I love you so much!”
Accepting my negative, sucky feeling is not easy at all.
It is so f** hard.
But this too shall pass…
and I will not give up.
Love, Sanae 💖
Thank you for your prayers and continuous support!
We are grateful and invite you to help us at this time by YouCaring Fundraising to Support Sanae’s Recovery from Cancer or purchasing our books directly from us to cover my medical expenses.
Here are our books:
My post mailing address for sending your card, gift or check (check payable to Eric Lechasseru):
2610A 23rd St.
Santa Monica, CA 90405
I will not be able to personally reply to each person, but I promise I will read everyone’s messages, emails, and cards.
Love, Sanae 💖