Chemobrain

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

First, Chemobrain is a real term. I was two days into it before I realized what I was experiencing. The short version is that if feels like a fitful fever without the sweats and chills. Things just don't fit together in your head, and you can't seem to make words, thoughts, actions, etc. work right. Unfortunately, this is where I'm at my weakest; I hate anything that makes me feel fuzzy-headed. That's why I try to stay away from painkillers and other meds that put me in a fog. (By the way, the other term for chemobrain is chemofog.)

One additional thought: Many times I've heard people say, with regard to chemo, that the cure is worse than the disease. After three uncomfortable days of side effects, I'm beginning to understand that statement. And, while I thought comments like, "I'm not going to take my Chemo, even though it might help me," and "Chemo is just not worth it," were some of the dumbest things I'd ever heard, I am now in a better place to understand the thinking behind them (even though I still don't agree with them).

Comments

[Barry Rellaford]

Marsh & Carol -

Greg told me about the singular adventure you're experiencing and I've just caught up reading through your extraordinary blog. May our Father continue to bless you in your every moment.

Marsh, I particularly appreciated your post re Greg - and I recalled my presence and participation in your departure. It's truly a testament to tremendous grace to see where events and relationships have emerged to date.

We'll keep you in our prayers.

Happy trails,

Barry

[Patrick Pope]

Marsh, at your foggiest, you're still sharper than 99.9% of us! I'm sure this must be frustrating for you, but "this too shall pass."

"God, having called you to eternal glory through Jesus Christ, will Himself, after you have suffered a little while, stabilize, strengthen and restore you. (I Peter 5:10)

God keep, comfort and heal you. Patrick