Hi all
Christmas – this week has been very educational in terms of my emotional capabilities to process this tribulation. From a purely scientific viewpoint, it is difficult to measure the emotional toll that chemotherapy personally exacts on me– too many variables that maybe someone with more credentials could quantify, but not me. Lack of sleep, when does the chemo start affecting emotional aspects of living, how much do low blood counts contribute to emotional states – these are just a few that occupy my mind. But today, I’m having difficulty processing the emotional lows that have been accompanying chemotherapy. Coupled with a bit of disrupted sleep, I wanted to get it on record as one of the low points for me. After all, this blog is intended for both high and low points of this whole struggle.
After receiving the initial diagnosis, I knew my sense of humor would give me a strong defense against many of the setbacks I would be facing – that and a strong support system both at home, and now through this blog that has helped in unimaginable ways. However, I also knew that there would be low points too, and now having been through a couple of those, I want to ensure that they are documented as well – not to garner well wishes (although still welcome), but from a mindfulness standpoint, to just objectively identify them, and have everyone reading understand that they pretty much suck too! This week is a shining example the highs and lows that have been quickly realized along the emotional spectrum that has accompanied chemotherapy.
I caveat the rest of this with the warning my doctor has continually given me; for the most part, the schedule outlined below is what most chemo patients experience. I understand the impending side effects, which is fine, but I write this to document and portray my personal physical and emotional experiences and how they fit into the “side effects schedule.” I received my last of the three day chemo treatment last Thursday, Dec 20th. I felt lousy on Thursday, really lousy on Friday and Saturday, and then took a little upswing on Sunday. Lousy can be identified for me as not wanting to get out of bed – no fever, just lethargic and apathetic and not knowing what foods may agree that day. After chemo treatments, my mind is constantly occupied by what foods will stay down. The anti-nausea meds are terrific, but need to be taken at specific times, and then slowly eat to see if they are working. Eating slowly is one of the more difficult tasks I’ve had to master. Emotionally though, I felt pretty stable. Monday, I felt good enough to get out of bed, and sit with family in the living room most of the day. The boys were of course excited about Christmas and I wanted to be around them and was able to be, although I was still a little skittish about Christmas Day. My energy reserves only can take so much stimulation and I didn’t know if being up most of Christmas Eve would wipe me out for Christmas Day. Luckily, the reserves held and Christmas Day was magical. I surprised myself by sitting with the boys during gift handout, and even having the ability to assemble some of their presents, usually a chore, but this year I thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn’t realize how much I have missed being a dad these last few months, but that morning I was capable of it and it turned out wonderful with memories that will last a lifetime and a two day emotional high that may or may not border mania!
Wednesday, I had a physical therapy appointment and felt good. During the therapy, I can gauge my stamina by how quickly I become short of breath during walker/hopper “laps” around the house. I can usually make it 10 minutes with little effort and I was able to complete the session with relatively little shortness of breath. The chemo had not yet begun its physical and emotional grip on me. My sister and her daughters drove up from Georgia and again, I was able to visit with family without feeling a huge energy loss. Thursday though, I woke feeling physically drained. I had an appointment to see how my blood count was progressing, and the physical symptoms were explained by a low white blood cell count, again, right on schedule. Today (Friday), I felt even worse, exacerbated by a disrupted night’s sleep. I had another physical therapy appointment, and could barely make it 2 minutes before quickly feeling short of breath – a marked difference from Wednesday.
I write this to convey my experience with the physical and subsequent emotional low that followed today’s physical therapy appointment. As a person who has lived with a relatively normal human capacity to control my emotions, I was incapable this morning. I felt a wave of sadness crash on me as I weaved together the week’s (as well as the past months’) events and realized how much of an impact they have had in my life. Right or wrong, I know I have resisted the urge to allow sad feelings to occupy my mind throughout this, but at that moment, with Jenn’s help and support, I was able to unlock the sadness floodgates for a few moments and have a healthy cry with Jenn. I cried for my missing leg. I cried because I can’t make it to the bathroom without feeling like I’m going to lose my lungs. I cried because this isn’t fair. I cried because this is all just bullshit. I cried for all the reasons that are out of my control, those things I’m normally supposed to accept. Jenn helped me realize that the majority of the time, I am able to maintain my resolve against those events outside my control, but that in order to stay sane, I need to allow myself selfish cry times too. So I did, and it was wonderfully therapeutic. I cried to just cry – usually an easy concept to accept, but more difficult when wrapped up in the turmoil that my cancer has caused.
So this post is just to allow myself another low moment, another moment that, eventually, will lead to more resolve. I have another round of 3 day chemo starting the second week of January, and will expect this again. We can add it to the “schedule.” Thanks for reading and have a Happy New Year!
Hunter
It's Not a Sprint 
Happy New Year, Hunter. How courageous to be where you are and sit with and acknowledge those low emotions. We are all still praying. Keep fighting.
Love from the Januzellis
Thanks Jen! Hope you guys had a great Christmas.
Hunter,
There’s nothing wrong with a good cry–very cathartic! Consider those tears part of your healing and remember that we’re all in this with you!!
Thanks Rhonda! what’s good to have a good and bad posted on the blog. And supporters like you make it all the worthwhile!
Continued well wishes to you and the family. I thoroughly enjoyed the new haircut! Just remember I have the market on being the bald guy with glasses. So quit biting off me.Enjoy the New Year. YOU ARE!
Thanks Dale. I Of course nobody will ever wear a bald head better than you!
Hunter,
I good cry and a good scream are the best stress relievers. These relievers will help you stay strong emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. Take Jenn’s advice on these not so medical techniques, which can prove to be the best medicine. Jenn seems to know just what to say and do. Holding things in can really take a toll on the mind and the body. Your strength and courage in dealing with all the emotions involved with your situation continue to amaze me. I am glad you have someone like Jenn to nurture you through your lows and highs.
Give my love to all the family.
Happy New Year!
Truly,
Mary
That is so true Mary. I don’t know what I would do without her.
Our prayers are with you and your family. Tears are very therapeutic and to dig so deep with your emotions and write them in a blog has to be cathartic. Actually amazing for a man to do.
It used to be hard. It’s pretty easy with everything that’s going on. But it always leads to a more positive aspect of it all.
Thank you for sharing. It is important to cry if you feel like crying. It would not be good to try to hold it in or ignore those feelings. You and Jenn have every right to cry after the whirl-wind of all you have been through in such a short time. Now that you have done that, you will be better able to face what ever is in store for you. We all felt your presence on Christmas day when everyone was here. Your spirit was with us and you were in much of our conversations.
We were all talking about the “bull-by-the-horns” hat. Just keep wearing it. Maybe you could wear it to you physical therapy session . . that should get things going!
Thanks Marilyn. That hat is going down in history I imagine!
You serve everyone by having a good cry. You come back with greater clarity, more relaxed and available for your family. I think it is often the most difficult to face how you are feeling- and deal with those emotions. You are getting it out- no you can focus your energy again.
Thanks Amy! It was great talking to you over the holidays. I hope you had a good rest of the trip back!
Hunter (aka Inspirer), for many years I was unable to cry. I had stuffed my emotions down so far that they could not be reached. I remember receiving some very sad news and wanted to cry, but couldn’t. After unlocking and unwrapping parts of myself, I have now re-learned how to cry. I am so thankful for that gift. I am even more thankful that you were able to let loose and that your wonderful wife was by your side, cheering you on – so to speak.
Sending you more hugs and love.
BTW – Did Robin give you a hug from me? If not, just remind her and you will receive it.
PS The “stuff” I sent to you is for you to take what you like and leave the rest.
PSS A video will be coming your way soon called “Not as I Pictured”.
YOU ARE A STAR!
Merry Christmas Hunter and a Happy New Year too!! Your posts are so inspiring and never forget the impact that you have had on all those who know you. We all cry, when you get to your limit the damn just has to break and it is a great feeling to just let the river flow. I’m pretty much an expert at it 🙂 Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers! Until your next post, keep smiling.
Thanks Terri. It is fulfilling letting the river flow!
What? I hope you know you just dropped a little on your super human meter and maybe a little on the man meter. Pal, I cry any time I see somebody else cry, always have, I guess always will. I cry at the end of Its a Wonderful LIfe, EVERY TIME and I know exactly what’s coming. Clarence gets his wings. yea yea. So I hope you tell us everything that’s going on, the ups and the downs. We want to hear it all. Hang in there guys.
Thanks Ken. That is a great movie! Although I’m glad I’m not in George’s predicament.
You are, after all, being poisoned (albeit carefully). I know that you are intellectually aware of that, but your emotions aren’t often listening to your intellect. Sounds like you’ve given yourself “permission” to feel the bad. “Pain shared is pain lessened” or “Every time you share your pain it is cut in half.” These sayings refer to mental pain, and are commonly used in some circles.
Here’s a secret I think you know: I have had depression my entire life. I think that my tendency to laugh and to be drawn to friends that are incredibly funny was a survival mechanism. You’re passing me going in the opposite direction (you started out funny, and it’s now helping you cope); so I can tell you that as far as the mental state goes, it does get better (and worse, and better, and…). “White knuckling it” is another term you can apply. Above all else, talk about it (not necessarily to us, but to somebody).
I know, too much analysis. I’ll ride over and find out why that artillery fire you ordered has not been placed on that hill (the order you gave like 30 seconds ago).
Thanks Andy! That’s very encouraging. Although you have a lot to deal with right now with the new one in the house!
Hunter,
You’ve had some really rough up-and-down moments battling this monster, but I’m thankful you were able to have an enjoyable Christmas Day with your family. I’m also thankful this blog has been therapeutic to you. It’s bound to be helpful to release the many conflicting emotions you’re experiencing, so if you need to scream, cry, laugh, or even howl, go for it! I hope 2013 brings you less pain and more stability in your condition, as well as the strength you need to defeat any obstacles you come up against.
Appreciate it Chris! I’m glad you are following. Your words have been very helpful and supportive!
Trying to take the bull by the horns w/o emotion is …..almost impossible. I’ve tried to do it my whole life, w/o success. It always made me more sick. In church, one day (after crying everytime I walked in the door for weeks) the Pastor approached me, hugged me, held me (while i cried harder)((what a whimp, I know))as if he knew who or what my demons were. After a brief exchange he told me that tears are the Holy Spirit’s way of cleansing the soul. I have held on to that……..and give myself permission to GET CLEAN everytime life seems to “bully” me or someone I know. HE’s been here alot lately so I’m gonna PUT ON MY BIG GIRL PANTIES, stop whimpin out here for a while and send HIM back to you. Put it on paper, put it in your box and close the lid. That always helps too. As if you closed (SLAMMED) the door on yet another demon. GOD BLESS you all. It takes a real man to do all that you do. LOVE, HUGS, PRAYERS AND TEARS from NY.
Hunter and Jenn,
so pleased you were able to have as normal a Christmas Day as possible. Hunter, your candor, courage, and humility to bare your soul motivates us to stray from the ego shield we each hide behind and share our innermost fears and otherwise energy-draining thoughts. (social stygmas are often unfounded) I recognize the lethargy, apathy days you had; in my early 30’s, I struggled with depression and was given the physiological explanation that I had a chemical imbalance I couldn’t control. I couldn’t believe I’d have to take a med to be “normal”. After 3 years on wellbutrin, I regained control such that I could stop the meds because I recognized the contributors or detractors from my healthy balance. I make sure to stay hydrated, to exercise to produce them-thar endorphins, etc. You’re discovering your roadmap to stay in charge of your days and you have the strength, you have the intelligence, you have the perseverance, you have the most outstanding wife and support and when that’s not enough, you have us. Our prayers are with you everyday. Godspeed, brother. In awe, Mike
Mike, I appreciate you sharing that here. It’s not easy bearing your soul. I know it couldn’t have been easy to deal with depression without an explanation. I’m glad I know you brother.
We are in the process of putting together the team to run the Shamrock half marathon in your honor. Word is a few of us may shave our heads since you have made the bald look fashionable. More to follow. Sully
I can’t wait to see the pics! Let me know what you need from me!
Hunter,
Overwhelming feelings of gratitude to you for being real, for your authenticity in sharing these lows, for the COURAGE to reveal these moments of grief.
Prayers continually streaming for the “schedule” and specifically for minimal symptoms with this next round.
Peace and Light to you and your family,
Dee
Thanks Dee!
Hey Hunter, just know I’m crying (and laughing) right along with you.
Jen
Thanks Jen! Always great to know you are still in touch!
Hi Hunter,
We are following your blog and keep praying for you. Never lose that courage and will. Find strength in those beautiful children you have. Know that many people are pulling for you and you will beat this. Thinking of you!
Manuel