Blah blah blah

That’s how I feel right now. Blah. All I do is lay like a lump on the couch and feel like shit. Chemo is killing my enthusiasm …

2nd chemo went better. The new anti nausea meds they gave me helped … my nausea was a 3 instead of an 11. So that made the first 2 days easier. Then the third day a write off. I felt like I had the worst flu. No temperature or much nausea but I could barely move. I felt like I was dying … I spent almost the entire day sleeping and I’ve felt exhausted ever since.

c5ad3078e2a911e2b82e22000a9e0697_7I can feel chemo chipping away at my health. My nails are turning weird. I woke up the other morning to find a mouth full of Thrush. I feel unsteady in my body and had to come to the heartbreaking decision to cancel my trip to Seattle to see the Go-Go’s.

I was really excited to see Jane and the rest of the ladies. They’ve been so amazingly supportive of me during this cancer and I wanted to give them all a big thank-u hug. *sob* but I can feel that my body is not recouping as quickly as I had hoped and I am completely depleted of energy. Better to stay home in case something else crops up.

By the way. Thrush? Is the worst. I won’t go into details but my tongue looks like yogurt. It’s disgusting. I hope you never get it.

This fatigue is bullshit. It takes EVERYTHING I have just to have a shower and get dressed. It’s like having Chronic Fatigue all over again. I never ever thought I’d be back here again struggling to have energy. It’s really depressing.


A friend of mine asked me what I did all day to occupy myself. She said “I know you must be going stir-crazy because you like to be out and about.” My answer? Not really.

I am a TV set full of static.

My days are a blur of malaise. I don’t have the brain power to read or clean or even carry on an intelligent conversation. One day bleeds into the next and because I have to nap a couple of times a day … I barely know what day it is. It’s all one long blur of feeling shitty …

The other day my Auntie Jean send me a nice email wishing me a happy birthday and I was like “Huh? What? OH YEAH! It’s my birthday.” I can’t believe I forgot …

Life is weird right now and I’m not really enjoying myself so to get myself out of the dumps I try to focus on the positive. I mean … that’s the only way I’m going to get through this. Right? Try and focus on little things that pop up during the day and give me pleasure.

Like how about when I took the dog for a walk around the block and saw an urban deer staring at me from my neighbours front lawn.


Or that Fergus is always watching me and making sure I’m ok… 🙂


Or how beautiful that summer breeze blowing through my windows is…

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d250c794e42b11e28a1922000a1fb0ef_7Or the fact that I’m going to see KISS on Friday!!

I was so upset about having to cancel my trip to Seattle to see the Go-Go’s that I bought tickets to see KISS.

The concert is a few blocks from my house so I feel like I can safely go see the show and if I feel tired/sick/overwhelmed I can easily get home without too much fuss.

I have been a KISS fan since the 70’s and I distinctly remember my Mum promising me she would take me to their concert when they played in Regina in 1977. I don’t remember the reason why we didn’t go. Maybe because I was only 9 years old at the time (ha ha) but it’s haunted me my whole life. So now’s my chance to fulfill that childhood dream.  🙂

And in the immortal words of KISS: If you don’t feel good, there’s a way you could. Don’t sit there broken hearted. Call all your friends in the neighborhood and get the party started. Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud!!

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19 Responses to Blah blah blah

  1. Missy Rogers says:

    My husband got the thrush real bad too when he went through chemo. I don’t know how many treatments you got left but my husband just got his last one Monday! The good news is that the thrush didn’t last long. Good luck to you, Sarah! Your lifestyle is still a big inspiration to me!

  2. Liam says:

    it has been 22 years since my first round of cancer and 11 years since the second and hopefully last time I had it. The nausea is the worst the tired you adjust to. But I admire you for even being able to Instagram and do a blog. I remember thinking the cancer was not going to kill me the chemo is just going to put me in a coma. They do have meds for the thrush I’m just not sure if you can take it while you’re on the chemo. This is where the tongue scraper on the back of a toothbrush is a wonderful thing.

    Not going to rock your b*** off at the KISS concert because I true grew up listening to them and had all their records and everything.

    Stay strong Sarah this too shall pass and you go see the Go Go’s 4 times to make up for the one you missed. Maybe they’ll even come see you

  3. Sarah, I’m so sorry to hear about your chemo, I don’t know how I missed the first round. I’m sure that Fergus is taking his best care of you and I wish you the best luck for the rest of it.

    I bet Kiss will be awesome! Have a fantastic time!

  4. Renée says:

    For someone feeling as shitty as you do, you’re doing a beautiful job of focusing on the positive. There are many people who can’t ever appreciate the nuances of beauty that you’ve described here.

    Yes to KISS!

  5. Nicole Hepworth says:

    Sarah you blow me away with your courage and positive attitude while facing such an insidious monster like cancer and enduring the side effects of the treatment. You continue to inspire me long after we did the Vagina Monologues together. I am thinking of you often. In fact everytime I hear a Go-Go’s song or like the other night when I saw them in a cameo appearance on a repeat episode of Drew Carey, I think of you. I am also sending healing vibes all the way from Niagara Falls to you. Keep fighting soldier girl!

  6. Sarah says:

    Thinking of you a lot. I’m sorry to hear you’re in a rough patch. Sometimes all you can do is just get through it. Love and hugs xoxox

  7. DeDe says:

    Ahh…Sarah. You’re going through a lot. Hang in there! I’m glad you’re getting to see KISS. I saw them a few yrs back and what a fun rock show! 🙂

  8. Rebecca says:

    I know that you are going through some rough times but, maybe this will help. Just think how amazing you will feel once you beat this chemo cr**. It may be slow going to get your energy and enthusiasm back just take it one day or even hour at a time. I am glad you are going to the KISS concert I hope this helps lift your spirits and enthusiasm up.
    Thanks for the pic of the deer that was really cool and awesome to see.
    Take care!

  9. Ilana says:

    Sarah, I’ve been checking in often, hoping to find you feeling miles better. I’m so sorry to see that’s not the case.

    I’ve been battling so many of the same things (although, NOT the thrush – ugh.) I think Neulasta is helping with neutrophil production, but I feel like I have the hips and legs of a ninety year old. I feel utterly betrayed by my body, which has always been my willing and able accomplice in a busy life. It’s been a struggle for positivity, because I believe that your attitude has real impact on your body. In my struggle, I’ve been writing things that are going on, and hope you don’t mind if I share one of those here, because it has been pulling me up for the last couple of weeks. (Are there clowns where you get your chemo? Probably not, you’re in Canada, it’s a civilized nation. )

    At my cancer center (oh, dear Buddha, I still can’t believe I have a CANCER CENTER) there’s a weird chemo clown thing – women with garish makeup and bulbous red noses – wait, that makes them sound like alcoholic hookers, not nearly alarming enough…women with rainbow suspenders and big shoes (I shit you not) walk around dispensing the most vapid of good cheer. Now, let’s be clear here – I am an adult. The value of a smiley face sticker given to me whilst I get poison pumped into my body is, shockingly, minimal, and in fact causes some out-of-proportion rage in my steroid-racked brain.

    My husband, spying the approaching clown, immediately begins to murmur “be nice…be nice…” like a mantra. He’s the nicest person in the world, and he knows that sometimes…uh…I am not. But, I work hard, bite my tongue and remember what a friend of mine told me: Somebody likes the clown. By which she means: I am not the center of the universe (although, as a youngest child, I struggle to remember this fact) and while the clown doesn’t appeal to me, she appeals to someone. So, when she smiles and hands me a card, I smile back (probably a bit grimly) decline the smiley face sticker, and she keeps walking. I look at the paper in my hand, and it’s one of those barftastic affirmational messages: “I am…worthy…loveable…blah, blah, blah.” I stop reading when I get to “huggable” and tuck it into my book.

    And then, I am sideswiped by the lesson. The clown walks to the next chair, and the woman occupying said chair, who has clearly been traveling this terrible road far longer than I, greets her like an old friend, even though their conversation makes it clear that they have never met before. She gratefully takes the smiley face sticker and proceeds to talk for at least twenty minutes. During this time the clown listens intently, occasionally murmurs softly, but mostly just listens. I am utterly shamed. Somebody likes the clown. Somebody NEEDS the clown.

    And again it washes over me – a sense of my good fortune. My husband sits beside me through every chemo, hands me countless tissues, listens to every gripe and whine, tries to alter the axis of the earth so I’ll suffer just a tiny bit less. My family and friends give me food and books and gum and company, bring their dogs to visit, send me hats and funny emails and whatever else they can think of to make this awful journey a little less awful. I don’t need the clown. I am so lucky. And I’m ashamed of my reaction to her.

    But even here, the clown gives me a pass. Later, I go back to my book, and I pull out the little piece of paper, and I see the other side. All it says is “Be gentle with yourself.”

    So, be gentle with yourself. (But not too gentle tonight, because – KISS!) And if you can manage it, remember how lucky you are to be loved.

    Sending you all the strength I can share,


    • Sarah says:

      You’ve given me such a beautiful gift! Thank you for your message… would you mind if I shared part of what you wrote on my blog?? 🙂

  10. From one tough Sask girl to another – I adore you Sarah. We have not met, but you inspire me to live and love even deeper after I read your raw words. We are all here with you and standing for you. Always remember you are cherished and that a light of love surrounds you, every moment – even during those crazy, frequent naps. (Saw KISS in Calgary a few years ago and I “shouted it” that I think I lost my voice!) Healing ((hugs)) ~ Laura and Miss Shanti the wild veg border collie 🙂

  11. Lori says:

    Hi Sarah,
    I regularly read your posts/tweets and think of you often. Today at the Pride parade you came to mind and I wondered if you were at home feeling like shit. I really hope not. I took a moment to visualize you in a healthy, radiant glow. You will get there!
    I know you have your support system and although you don’t really know me I am completely genuine when i say i am here if you need anything at all. I completely get it. You may not want to feel like you are depending on the same people all the time. You can ask for anything and I will drop it off at anytime. No visit, no chat, no energy zapped from you. Just a delivery and a smile and I will be quickly gone:) A craving for a treat, a magazine…whatever it is you fancy, please ask. I would be honoured to be able to support you. You have my email…please just ask. Anytime. In the meantime, I will continue to send loads of healing thoughts your way. This sucks balls big time but you are strong and this crap you are going through is temporary. It is just TEMPORARY, you will feel good and strong again!
    With much respect, support and a hug, Lori

  12. Molly says:

    I have admired your vegan awesomeness for a while and now I’m admiring your cancer-fighting superstardom!
    I’ve never received chemo myself, but I’ve given a bunch (I’m an oncology fellow)- hang in there. It is totally rough and it sucks, but I can promise that it’s worth it once it gets the job done. I hope your new anti-nausea medication is making things a little easier.
    You’re super strong and you’re doing an amazing job staying positive despite everything! You are definitely a rock star and a true inspiration to everyone!

  13. Pingback: Be gentle with yourself… |

  14. Tara says:

    I’m a friend of Bif’s and found your website through her. 🙂 I’m sorry to learn you’ve joined our ‘cancer club’! 😮

    But, anyway; Wow been there; done that. I totally get the ‘days bleeding into one another’ and you just can’t wait to get through all this cancer crapness. I got oral thrush too and couldn’t brush my tongue enough! >..< Blah!
    Well, I hope you can at least sit outside and enjoy some nice weather with your doggy; that will help. I went through treatment in the Winter :(.

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