I thought Foghat lyrics would be appropriate on many levels. The first, is obvious, they hit the topic between the eyes. The second is because the name Foghat is pretty much a synonym for chemo-brain…at least in my experience anyway.
I said I would write a post about the fog. I don’t want to do it because I hate living in it, but I think it’s important to try and convey what that experience is like. Consider it my first PSA (public service announcement) for the new year.
Imagine you are at the beach. It is a beautiful, warm, clear summer day. The breeze is warm, the water is crystal clear, and the skies seem to reflect the beauty of the water. You decide that you want to take a dip, so in you wade. The water is perfect, refreshing but not shocking. You walk out until you’re in chest-deep, close your eyes, breathe in that delicious, salt-tinged air and let out a sigh. Then you open your eyes and notice the dorsal fin headed straight to you.
And you try to run, but you’re in the water and you can’t. You panic! Your brain is racing but your body cannot. You can’t escape and you experience the disconnect between your wants and your abilities so clearly. It’s these feelings that are what my experience of chemo brain is like.
So, while this is a physical example of chemo brain, I hope it gets the point across. I feel like my brain is moving through water. I see everything, but I can’t quite grip it. I know what I want to say, but I can’t get the words out. My mind knows where it wants to go, but it wanders and is cloudy. And after a few days of this, I am depressed and sad because I can see the shore, but I just. can’t. get. to. it.
With the advances in medicine, the physical aspects of chemo are relatively benign (haha, I have nothing if not my sense of humor) given the poisons that are being pumped into the body: I am nausea-free 99% of the time; the heartburn is controlled by Prilosec OTC and Tums; the body aches go away with Extra-Strength Tylenol; Unisom allows me to sleep when my mind races; the hair is gone but Lola lives on. I have an amazing support system to help with the kids when I cannot find the energy to get off the couch for that first week.
These mental and emotional issues are the ones that leave me counting the minutes to February 8 (last chemo day plus a week). I feel like a wimp complaining when those before me had to deal with these side effects plus the physical issues. But, I’m writing about my experiences, not theirs.
As of now, I am still debating the use of antidepressants for these last 2 rounds. I don’t know if they will help, only because they’re not intended to clear out the cobwebs. So my thought process is that I’m still going to feel all kinds of loopy, funky, disconnected, but I won’t be upset by it. It’s not going to help with the fog, which is what I really, really want. And, for the 3 days of the upset each round, I don’t know if I want to be on a medicine full-time.
So, there it is. I hope that this helps explain the phenomenon of chemo-brain to those fortunate enough not to have it. And as is said at the end of most televised PSAs:
…The more you know…
Buzzy said,
January 1, 2010 at 3:51 pm
You have a way with words, Beens. I feel like I can empathize with what you are experiencing. I sure wish that depression didn’t have to be the additional piece of your challenging situation. Thank you for putting it into words so that we can have a better understanding of what you feel like.
Love you! Buzz
Patty Ogden said,
January 2, 2010 at 11:28 am
You have got to, I really mean this, got to keep your posts as the beginning of a book! I haven’t been through the chemo, but you give a description that helps me to understand those I know going through it. Please take my suggestion seriously when you get some “spare time!” Wishing you peace as you make your decision on what to do with the antidepressants….they could make a difference and if so fantastic! If not, what the hell, it could be a new chapter in your book!
Love!~
barbara abbey said,
January 3, 2010 at 8:16 pm
This is too weird as I hadn’t read your blog but dreamt of sharks last night. Only two more Sweetheart! Just keep looking for the pony and Febuary 8th is almost here. Now that the New Year has come and gone, we can get out and walk when ever you are up for it. Just let me know.
I love you more,
Mom
eileen barish said,
January 4, 2010 at 10:56 pm
Hi Eileen,
Spoke with your mother today and she told me you had another chemo treatment but that you were doing okay. After talking with her, I wanted to contact you and let you know how brave I think you are and to tell you that you’re in my prayers always.
I wish you and your beautiful family a very good year filled with good health and happiness.
The other Eileen
Joneva said,
January 6, 2010 at 5:11 pm
Eileen,
You will make it to the beach…February 8th is basically a month away. You can do this! I know you can!
Nona said,
January 7, 2010 at 2:47 pm
HI there Eileen!
You are awfully brave. I don’t know how you do it, but kudos to you. Hoping you get everything you want in 2010!
Nona
Patty Ogden said,
January 10, 2010 at 6:39 pm
Hi Eileen,
If I remember right tomorrow is one of your treatments! All of the Ogden’s will be sending love and good thoughts your way.
debbi chartash said,
January 11, 2010 at 8:20 pm
Eileen,
happy new year. I haven’t forgotten you and I think of you all the time. I never knew the creative side of you; you are so amazing. And if you didn’t get depressed sometimes, then i would worry about you. I know that your family, friends,creativity, humor, and spirit keeps you going. I must say that i can’t believe that is a wig. you look gorgeous. We are sending out a letter to the team in a couple days. Attached will be the speech we did at closing.
Hope today went well. I will keep in touch.
with love, debbi
Tanta Paula said,
January 18, 2010 at 11:46 am
Hey Chickie;
You made me LAUGH I so remember (chemo brain) and you described it so beautifully. I felt like I was in another dimension of the world. I was physically in the same room with other people; however, I could not seem to be. I had no idea nor did I care what the h-ll was going on around me. I felt like a zombie!!!
Love you much,
Tanta Paula