If you can't take the heat...

 

Monday...you've been an ominous start to the week.

Another sad attempt at sleep last night left me at my wits end this morning.

 

I just can't get comfortable. I used to be a tummy sleeper, many moons ago, but expanding baby bellies during pregnancy trained me to sleep on my side. When I lost my right breast it ruled out sleeping on my right side and now the left side has been struck off too. Lying on my back is making sleep scarce. I long for the day when my chest feels 'normal' enough to sleep comfortably again but I fear that reality is years away. Added to that discomfort are the hideous hot flushes which wake me up a dozen times a night and plague me during the day. They tapered off for the first few months after starting Tamoxifen but have ramped right up again.

 

Menopause, to put it delicately, is the Universe's sadistic idea of a cruel joke. Why on earth do affected women not talk about it, or more to the point, violently rage against it more openly?

 

The hot flushes come on so fiercely. One minute I'm fine, then within seconds my entire body is on fire, my face is red and my forehead soaked in sweat. My natural instinct is to strip off layers until my body cools down. I find myself flinging the quilt on and off throughout the night in a futile attempt to get comfortable. I feel so self conscious and embarrassed when I burn up in public, people shoot me quizzical looks when I become bright red and sweaty during a conversation. I'll be honest, I HATE hot flushes but more than that, I think it's outrageously unfair to have to endure period pain and hot flushes simultaneously. Menopause when you're thirty seven is just plain wrong! In fact it is entirely fucked up!

 

So...Monday started off with me bursting into tears upon waking and progressed into a truly spectacular sobfest in my GPs office during my post surgical check up mid morning. It was ugly. I could barely speak, but my GP being the intelligent and intuitive woman that she is, very quickly summised that I was entirely overwhelmed with the cancer gig. Apparently it's fairly common to experience a kind of post traumatic stress response after battling cancer. Seems obvious. During treatment patients tend to focus all their energy on surviving the disease and when treatment is over the brain then gives permission to drop the defences and emotions take over. In her words, she had been wondering when I would crack. She thought I'd been far too upbeat during my diagnosis and treatment.

 

So...I've started on a low dose anti depressant which can (hopefully) kill two birds with one stone by stabilising my mood and reducing the severity of my hot flushes. I've got more painkillers to get me through the next couple of weeks and most importantly, a referral to start seeing a psychologist.

 

I've officially started the next chapter of cancer treatment...time to start cleaning up the emotional wreckage from my little horror show.

 

xx Em

 

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