I don’t know if I can ever explain just how debilitating this treatment is. The thought of trying to put myself back together to begin the work week tomorrow is almost daunting. This Is now the 2nd week of this cycle of treatment and the 2nd week that I’ve lost 4 ½ days to the bed or the couch, and for 3 of those days I could barely take care of myself. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need help. Something as simple as opening a bottle of ginger ale is almost impossible and feeding myself seems like an insurmountable task. Ron is trying but he goes off to work in the morning and doesn’t get back until late afternoon.
This gives a whole new meaning to the “pit of despair.”
I think when we get back from NC, I’ll send out a note to my friends and see if I can create shifts – or maybe they can cook for me, drive me to get my blood drawn, or just sit with me. Being alone is really tough especially when you feel so helpless. I’ll talk to Ron about it over Thanksgiving.
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