I Won’t Puke If I Don’t Move, or Hormones, You Little Bastards

Yeah, there’s living with cancer and there’s living with the treatment. Most of the time I can do both at once. But every so often, the hormones run through their repertoire and have to find something new. Night sweats? So last week. Hot flashes? Been there, done that. Anxiety/mood disruption? Bitch, please. Fatigue? How tiresome. Oh, wait––stomach upsets! We haven’t had that one in a while.

But, hey, at least it’s not a stroke or a heart attack.

I tell myself that there’s so little cancer left for the hormones to kick around that they have to find other things to do. So here I am.

Believe me, it’s not that I’m not happy the hormones are working such a treat. Cancer-Stompers R Us, go team! Side-effects included as standard, no extra charge.

Living with cancer. It’s not always dramatic. In fact, most of the time it’s just a pain in the arse. Given where I was last year at this time, you’d think I’d have a higher threshold for that sort of thing. Okay, I’d have thought. But there you go. Life is the terminal condition we all share, and the human condition is included as standard, no extra charge. Just in case there are side-effects, I guess.

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12 thoughts on “I Won’t Puke If I Don’t Move, or Hormones, You Little Bastards

  1. So many kinds of feeling ill. This one sounds like it BITES. Always like to imagine the cancer cells being TWICE as annoyed, twice as vexed, twice as not thriving. This one’s a YUGE challenge! Glad at least it’s not running for President.
    ❤ ❤ ❤

    • I’ll drink to that. Green tea, mostly, although I’m going to try some coffee this morning. Every time I think I’ve got this figured out, it finds another way to get more attention.

  2. Much, much sympathy here. Like desperately needing a toilet, being nauseated demands 100% of your attention until it’s ready to go away, and that itself is infuriating. I hope it’s passed by now. Here’s a virtual cold compress for your brow. I won’t hug you just yet…

    • Thank you. I think I’ve slept off the worst of it. It has belatedly occurred to me that the weather may be part of it––it’s very humid and close here right now.

      • Good, I hope you continue to feel better. Today, I’m starving because I have my second routine colonoscopy tomorrow – but now I have a cancer history and I’m getting a wee bit nervous. Fortunately, I can concentrate instead on my hunger – and this evening I can concentrate on getting to the bathroom on time! Many times! Whee!

      • Oh, boy, a colonoscopy! You’re a real party animal, aren’t you?

        Even before I had cancer, I was getting one of these every three years because of my family history––Old Eternal had four brothers and three of them died of colon cancer. Although we always thought that they actually died of poor diet and failing to look after their health. They were of that generation that stayed away from doctors as much as possible and thought of the hospital as where you went to die, not to get well, and they had a host of other problems along with cancer.

        Anyway, I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself. A colonoscopy isn’t much fun but it’s better than not having one.

  3. Oh Pat, that sounds awful and the humidity won’t be helping. I hope it subsides soon. Much love.

    • Well, I’m doing better. I think part of it really was the weather. I spent 23 years in the Midwest, where heat and humidity are business as usual. But I’ve been in London for the last twenty years and I seem to have lost my ability to tolerate insane levels humidity. Anyway, in those conditions, what might be a mildly iffy stomach that will settle with green tea becomes Nausea From Hell. Maybe also because of the added stress of Deadline Hell, although Deadline Hell doesn’t usually affect me that way.

      But enough about me, Ms Bachelor’s with Honours! And already plugging away at a Masters! You are the quintessence of what I’ve been telling people––learning is not limited by age. You can do it at any time in your life. As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late. Proud of you, girlfriend!

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