Disjointed sleep patterns added a touch of interest to my life for a while. But the interest has evolved into something less appealing—more confusing and disturbing. When those patterns began to emerge, I found them somewhat curious and appealing, as if they might have the potential of introducing me to thought processes with which I had previously been unfamiliar. And so they did. Yet that did not “fix” the low levels of distress the changes brought about. Instead, I began to be concerned that the chemotherapy, the drugs, the adjuvant therapies, the radiation treatments, the metastatic evolution of cancer, and/or advancing age might be transforming me into someone I had never been, nor wanted to be. My concerns seem to have blossomed. I find myself daydreaming. As if ideas and thoughts that began clearly as artificial explorations discard their imaginary natures and become actual experiences or recollections. Odd. Unexpected. And, I hope, temporary. My oncologist mentioned, last week, that there may be times I might need a “chemo-vacation,” a rest between periods of being battered by treatments and simply letting myself recover from the onslaught.
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So much more to think, but so little capacity to think it. I may be in the midst of a “chemo vacation” right now. It’s been at least two weeks…maybe more…since my most recent chemo. My doctor tells me she wants to expose me to chemo only when my body can best tolerate it and when it will do more good than harm.
That last paragraph of this post. Yes, to what your doctor has said to you about chemo vacations and taking breaks. I’ll add this – a sort of “voice of experience” comment on this subject. Earlier on in treatment, the goal of chemo is to pound the hell out of the cancer — to try to knock it out as much as possible. However, as time passes, I think approach of maintenance chemo has to change. If you keep aggressively pounding at the cancer, month after month, you are also doing some major damage to your body. I know it’s hard to think of cancer cells reorganizing and beginning to grow between treatments, but I think we also have to realize that the more you throw at them, the sooner they will often become resistant to that particular line of treatment. It seems to me that the goal should be to be careful not to overuse a chemo drug to the point that it stops working. Instead, use it judiciously to keep cancer contained in a sort of holding pattern of maintenance for as long as possible, without rushing on to the next line of defense. I know that patients and caregivers probably don’t think that way — so much has to do with the whole notion of “fighting cancer” and treating the body as a battleground, but I feel that is problematic – because it’s rather self-destructive. What is more important is keeping the body fed, rested and recovering so that it can tackle the next round of treatment whenever that time seems right. JMHO of course.