I had no idea the chemo side effects would dog me a year after my last infusion. Or that I’d still be dealing with issues from reconstruction.
August 1, 2012: Last chemo infusion
July 27, 2013: Nearly a year later
Factoid: Chemotherapy shrinks the brain. Seriously. I have Post-Chemo Cognitive Disorder. A fancy term for the sad fact that cancer made me stupid. I used to be pretty smart. Now, I’m slower on the uptake. Confused. Overwhelmed. I have to work way harder than most folks to reason my way through a situation. It’s causing problems at work. I work with a lot of really smart people. They'll have you for lunch if you can't keep up. I struggle to keep up. Some folks are quite understanding; some not.
I’m surprised at how rotten chemo brain can make me feel. I’ve always placed a high value on intelligence. I like smart people. So not only did I get to enjoy the many indignities of cancer treatment and a mastectomy, but now I get an extra dose of daily mortification because I can’t always follow the conversation when multiple people are talking, I can’t find the right word to adequately express myself, I make mistakes, I can’t multi-task as I’m expected to in order to accomplish 12 hours of work in 8.
On the other hand, I think I've done pretty damn well considering the circumstances. I'm not really stupid. I know that. But I can’t live up to my own expectations and that's really really hard on the self-esteem. But considering all that I've been through, it's amazing I have the wherewithall to be doing what I'm doing. I read recently that courage is that little voice that says "I will try again tomorrow". And try I do. I've never been a quitter. Although some days I want to. Seriously want to.
I’m not naive enough to think I can’t get fired over this. A doctor said to me recently “they can’t fire you because you have cognitive issues stemming from cancer treatment”. Oh yes they can. And they will. This is corporate America where the unspoken rule is “keep up or go away”. So I'm working double hard to make sure I don't lose my job OR my insurance. Now THAT would be a crisis. Like I need another crisis.
Spent most of yesterday doing extensive neurology testing. Just to be sure it’s really chemo fog and not something more sinister. Yes, it’s chemo fog. The neurologist absolutely made my day when he looked me in the eye and said “You’ve come to the right place. We can help you.”
Thank you, God.
