Dear readers,
I hope my story has been engaging and meaningful to you so far. My aim is to convey my experiences in a way that resonates and inspires. Today, I want to delve deeper into the emotions and side effects of chemotherapy, and share more about that part of my journey.
October 12, 2020, marked the start of my chemotherapy treatment. The day was filled with a mix of fear and anticipation. It was the beginning of a challenging path, one that I knew would eventually end. By my side was another patient, lovely lady named Darja, whose presence felt like a reassuring sign. Her calming words helped ease my anxiety, sensing perhaps how I was feeling. The chemotherapy session lasted about 45 minutes. I expected to feel nauseous and possibly vomit, but after an hour of rest, I decided to go for a walk — definitely a mistake 😊.
About three hours later, my body felt like it was collapsing. I was overwhelmed by a wave of nausea, weakness, and sheer shock. What was happening? How should I respond? Although I anticipated feeling unwell, the intensity was shocking. I remember lying on the bathroom floor, battling with my thoughts. Part of me reassured myself that the treatment was working and that everything would be okay, while another part felt like a victim, doubting my ability to endure the pain. The sense of helplessness grew stronger, and I faced a critical moment: would I rise and fight, or would I give up? I had a mental conversation with myself, and I remember deciding to accept the situation. I embraced the nausea and pain, viewing the chemotherapy as a form of medicine that was meant to heal me. This mental shift helped me fully accept the illness, and I found respect and even a sense of love for the challenge I was facing. After this realization, I went to bed, calmed myself with soothing music, and fell asleep. When I woke up a few hours later, I felt renewed, and the fear had subsided. I placed my trust in the chemotherapy, even though it was difficult at times.
Between my first and second chemotherapy sessions, I noticed my hair beginning to fall out. Surprisingly, this was not as distressing for me as I had anticipated. I reassured myself that new hair would eventually grow back. When I lost all my hair, I sent a picture to a friend. Her comment was that I looked like a movie star and that being bald suited me. Losing my hair turned out to be the least psychologically taxing part because I knew it would grow back, and I would have the chance to rediscover myself with a new look 😊.
However, I did have concerns about how my daughters would react to my baldness. Maša, who was only one year old, didn’t grasp what was happening, but Sara, being older, could sense that something was wrong. I recall the day I went to get my wig, and they had shaved off my remaining hair. When I came home, I took Sara to her room, showed her my bald head, and explained that I would be without hair for a while because I was sick. Her reaction was: “Wow, Mommy, you’re so beautiful.” That moment gave me an additional boost of strength and reinforced my determination to overcome everything.
In sharing these experiences, I hope to shed light on the emotional challenges I faced and how important mental resilience has been throughout this journey. I’d love to hear from you: How did you cope with the emotions after chemotherapy? How did you handle losing your hair? Who provided you with the most support?
Until next time, let’s continue focusing on the main message… a positive mindset 😊.
