Almost Over
Right now I'm sitting in the quiet living room, sipping White Wedding tea from TheTeaSpot.com that I received as a gift from the lovely Pom yesterday - a timing so perfect I couldn't have planned it better. And that's today.
Friday marked my last Lupron shot. Thank goodness. I'm so beyond done with this drug. There is so little about the last six months that I can be certain is actually me. I've lost so much focus, instead being forced to put too much energy in simply accomplishing my basic tasks. There's nothing quite like feeling as if your bones are going to snap under the pressure of your weight when you're doing nothing more than standing upright - and I'm 4'9" straddling the 100 lb. mark. Everything that I do takes longer than it used to, either because I'm too weak to do it right the first time, or because I have to stop and breath like a crazy person to get my emotions under control.
Have you been uncontrollably angry because you have to wash dishes or, my favorite, a pair of pants doesn't fall on the hanger correctly? I have. And I get to be this whirlwind of insanity in front of my impressionable 2.5 year old daughter, who begged me at nap time to go to the doctor because "you're always so sick." I didn't have the heart to tell her that the medicine the doctor is giving me is why I'm so sick.
If I squint and stare in just the right way, I can see the benefits of being on this drug. I've learned a lot about my own strength, although an argument could be made I was already fairly versed in that aspect of my personality, and I've a better understanding of what I can expect from the people around me.
Constantly needing help for months at a time has opened the door for Nora to be my Big Girl Helper. It's impossible to resist her excited shout of, "Me! Me! Me!" when I ask, "I wonder if I have a Big Girl Helper willing to XYZ?" Sure, there are a thousand things that would have gone smoother without her assistance, but I'll admit being able to lean on a counter for a few minutes while she attempts a task has given me the break I needed to actually do it myself. Because that's what Lupron has made of me, the type of person who needs a break between sweeping dirt into a pile and sweeping the pile onto the dust pan. And it's humiliating.
So, even though my brain, my poor, messed up brain, is telling me to (basically) give up and let go of friendships and dreams and the future, instead shrinking my circle until it's a series of home crafts and library books, I think I'll wait. Once I've pushed this stupid drug out of my system, I'll evaluate things with a clearer frame of mind, hopefully my physical strength will return and I'll be able to make a more informed decision.
Conclusion? Lupron is horrible and when I go for my well woman next week, my doctor better tell me that it is the bloody miracle she expected it to be.
Friday marked my last Lupron shot. Thank goodness. I'm so beyond done with this drug. There is so little about the last six months that I can be certain is actually me. I've lost so much focus, instead being forced to put too much energy in simply accomplishing my basic tasks. There's nothing quite like feeling as if your bones are going to snap under the pressure of your weight when you're doing nothing more than standing upright - and I'm 4'9" straddling the 100 lb. mark. Everything that I do takes longer than it used to, either because I'm too weak to do it right the first time, or because I have to stop and breath like a crazy person to get my emotions under control.
Have you been uncontrollably angry because you have to wash dishes or, my favorite, a pair of pants doesn't fall on the hanger correctly? I have. And I get to be this whirlwind of insanity in front of my impressionable 2.5 year old daughter, who begged me at nap time to go to the doctor because "you're always so sick." I didn't have the heart to tell her that the medicine the doctor is giving me is why I'm so sick.
If I squint and stare in just the right way, I can see the benefits of being on this drug. I've learned a lot about my own strength, although an argument could be made I was already fairly versed in that aspect of my personality, and I've a better understanding of what I can expect from the people around me.
Constantly needing help for months at a time has opened the door for Nora to be my Big Girl Helper. It's impossible to resist her excited shout of, "Me! Me! Me!" when I ask, "I wonder if I have a Big Girl Helper willing to XYZ?" Sure, there are a thousand things that would have gone smoother without her assistance, but I'll admit being able to lean on a counter for a few minutes while she attempts a task has given me the break I needed to actually do it myself. Because that's what Lupron has made of me, the type of person who needs a break between sweeping dirt into a pile and sweeping the pile onto the dust pan. And it's humiliating.
So, even though my brain, my poor, messed up brain, is telling me to (basically) give up and let go of friendships and dreams and the future, instead shrinking my circle until it's a series of home crafts and library books, I think I'll wait. Once I've pushed this stupid drug out of my system, I'll evaluate things with a clearer frame of mind, hopefully my physical strength will return and I'll be able to make a more informed decision.
Conclusion? Lupron is horrible and when I go for my well woman next week, my doctor better tell me that it is the bloody miracle she expected it to be.
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