I’ve been getting through my new normal one day at a time, taking each moment as it comes with a flexible approach. However I must say that mid last week was the real trough, pit, lowlight, whatever you would like to call it so far. I had a lung function test early Thursday morning, so Mum and I went down to Ballarat the night before. As we drove into Ballarat it was pouring rain, and I was particularly unexcited to be there. Going to hospital for two nights a fortnight was starting to get a little bit old, and considering how well my last treatment had gone, and how well I had been, the last thing I wanted was to be back in hospital.
Unfortunately my mood did not change as I was admitted to hospital, even though I had a visit from my Uncle Pat and Ailish made the trip from Melbourne on the train, I didn’t have much to offer. I was sick of being sick. Whilst I was working my way through my new normal, and had come to terms with what each day looks like; I had a period of weakness, and officially cracked it. I was so frustrated and negative. There were tears galore and just general unhappiness. The nurses came to my rescue. They listened to me vent, cuddled me when I cried and provided a reasonable perspective, (as opposed to my unreasonable one.)
The next day when I had my visit from George, he told me the great news that everything looks to be progressing well with my treatment, and I no longer needed to be admitted to hospital for chemo. This was the news I wanted so badly to hear, but as soon as I heard it, it was bittersweet. The nursing staff have been such a support for me and my entire family throughout this whole ideal, and I couldn’t at all imagine being prodded with needles every fortnight without them there to hold my hand, or to tell stories too or even make them try my baked goods. I will always be grateful to Liz, Necia, Kylie, Crystal, Katie, Claire, Sarah, Louise, Cinny and all the lovely people that work in the 1 West ward. I will miss them so much, not only every second Wednesday when somebody new comes at me with a needle, but for their company and their kindness all of the time.
Being told I didn’t need to be in hospital anymore was somewhat empowering, and on Saturday I decided to through the netball dress back on and give playing a crack. Just to fully explain, it was day three which is typically not a great day, and I had to cover my port with padding which was weird, but I felt up for it. It had been eactly nine weeks since I had thrown a ball, and it showed; but the Rup girls and the whole club couldn’t be more supportive and encouraging if I asked them too. I was fairly useless on the court, and I was very hesitant, but I had fun nonetheless; and boy was I sore on Sunday! It was a good way to begin this new cycle. I’ve had two months of living in cotton wool, and now its time to retrieve some parts that make me feel like me again.
At the end of the month I’ll be halfway through kicking Hodgkin’s butt, and I just wanted to send a shout out of appreciation to everyone that has held me in their thoughts. Chances are that if you’re reading this you are one of them, so thank you for your kindness and well wishes. I’m getting there! Xx