It’s not easy being green

My favourite TV programme as a small child was Sesame Street. My favourite character was Kermit the Frog. I know exactly why Miss Piggy loved him. He is adorable. Kermit once sang a song called It’s not Easy Being Green and I identify with it. It sums up my first 10 days post chemotherapy. I, like Kermit, have spent each day the colour of the leaves. Here is Kermit warbling out our song https://youtu.be/rRZ-IxZ46ng

I was going to call this blog 50 Shades of Green - but I’ve never read 50 Shades of Grey, nor have I seen the movies. The widely criticised writing and the content put me off. Sadomasochism is not my cup of tea. If I want people to keep me against my will and treat me badly, I can just be a lawyer. I’m all for people being nice to me. Plus I’m a feminist so the thought of some older sophisticated man dominating some submissive girl makes me want to throw up.

Ahhhhh, and we are back to throwing up. Everything made me want to throw up in the ten days post chemo but thanks to the power of modern medicine, I did not. I did however borrow from Marian Keyes (my favourite author) who tweets an “ailment of the month”. I however had an “ailment of the day’”. You never knew what you’d wake up to from one day to the next. I found myself calling the oncology nurses (and sometimes the oncologist) on a daily basis.

This is the list of possible side effects of the drug cocktail I am on and I’ve ticked the ones I’ve had so far:

Allergic reaction

Nausea and vomiting ✅

Headache ✅

Flu like symptoms ✅

Taste and smell changes ✅

Bone pain ✅

Infection risk (neutropenia)

Low platelets ✅

Diarrhoea ✅

Mouth pain and soreness

Fatigue ✅

Skin rash ✅

Peripheral neuropathy

Eye problems ✅

Hand-foot syndrome

Fluid retention ✅

Anaemia

Hair loss

Nail changes

Menopause

Heart problems

It was interesting to observe how my body reacted to chemotherapy and how the effects came over time. One day it felt like someone had taken an exfoliating glove to my insides and roughed up every single lining - my stomach, my intestines, my womb, my bowel, my nose, my bones - even the vein where the drugs went in ached. And the tiredness, oh my god, I have never known tiredness like it. Soon after chemotherapy my remaining boob went red. Another day I woke up with an ugly pink rash on my chest and neck. It was so itchy I was distracted from the nausea. Then I got acne. Then I blew my nose and it bled. I have a dreadful metallic taste in my mouth which makes drinking water disgusting.

I am waiting for the hair loss due about now… in the meantime I seem to have no arm hair (not a bad thing). I feel like my hairs are just holding on by the skin of their teeth. Any day now I expect them to give up and fall like autumn leaves. I am looking forward to shedding all over the cat’s favourite sleeping spots and looking at him like a psychopath (like he did to me when I caught him sleeping on my hair preserving silk pillowcase).

And then on day 11 post chemo I woke up and apart from the metallic taste and a slight lingering nausea in the background I felt like my old self again.

It is do-able. It is not pleasant but for peace of mind, for a chance of seeing my daughter grow up, to meet my grandkids (no pressure Eva) and to see more of this beautiful world we live in, I am prepared to be the colour of the spring (my favourite season).

As Kermit would say: When green is all there is to be, it could make you wonder why? But why wonder? I’m green. It’ll do fine. It is beautiful. And I think it is what I want to be.

PS: My friend Lisa just sent me this meme. It is too good not to add to this post: