It’s the second day now since I came home on Tuesday. It’s not turning out exactly as I’d hoped. In a lot of ways it’s better. All the planning that went into trying to expect what it would be like when I got home, I’m doing better than I thought I would. But at the same time, based on the way I felt before I was discharged coming home has been a little disappointing. I wanted things to be normal. I wanted to be able to forget. But I can’t forget. Due to all the medications I’ve gotten (either over the last 3 weeks or over the last 6 months) food doesn’t taste the same, I don’t smell like myself, I have very little hair of any kind (eyebrows are officially gone), there’s a numbness/tingling in my fingers and feet, my mind isn’t as sharp as it once was, my body doesn’t have the strength or stamina it once did. Some, if not all of these things will go back to normal over time, but they make it impossible to pretend everything’s normal right now. But I should be, and for the most part am, happy with how things are going.
I will have a few follow-up appointments over the next few weeks. I go in tomorrow for blood tests and possible transfusions if my counts are low. At some point, hopefully in the next week or so, I’ll get one of my ports removed (I cannot wait to get this thing out, it’s a nuisance). From there it’s just a matter of getting better… and hoping the cancer doesn’t come back. I’m trying not to think about that too much. The treatments I’ve had give me the best possible shot of being over this, but the rate of recurrence for this cancer is too high to ignore. Time will tell I suppose, and I just need to figure out how to live in the meanwhile.