As Monday crept in, so did the stomach pains. I’m still working on the timing for my medication to try and prevent them, but it’s a bit of a mystery since they come without warning. This time, though, the pains weren’t as intense as in previous weeks—small victories!
Now, to give you a better picture, let me channel my inner Sophia from The Golden Girls. Remember when she would start her stories with, “Picture it?” Well, here we go. Picture it: Monday morning, me making my way to the bathroom. I can’t be sure if it’s gas or something a little more “involved,” so I prepare myself for all possibilities.
Imagine, if you will, my stance: feet braced close to the sides of the toilet, leaning over as though I’m gripping the handlebars of a sportbike. My thighs are the “gas tank,” the edge of the tub serves as the handlebars, and my stomach pain revs up like an engine coming to life. There are deep, unholy noises that feel like a mix between the sputtering of the bike and the roar of an engine. Did you picture it? Because this is as real as it gets, and believe me, there’s nothing glamorous about this process.
You’re getting the raw truth here—no sugar-coating, no misconceptions. This chemo journey has been filled with small battles, and not all of them go in my favor. However, by the afternoon, I found a bit of relief. I took one of my new pills morning, afternoon, and night, each time accompanied by—you guessed it—a “loose movement.” With each dose, the stomach pains gradually eased.
At this point, staying hydrated is my best defense, so I’m armed with apple juice, water, popsicles, and coconut water. It’s a routine that might sound mundane, but it’s what keeps me going. Small wins, one day at a time.
