Sinking

I had forgotten how horrible this feels. This post-poisoining place of grimness.

I could list the seemingly-endless side effects: the sore throat; the angry rash covering my chest and neck; the aching limbs, the fatigue. But it doesn’t do it justice.

My brain is a fog and I can’t think straight. I am vaguely aware of things going on in the house – my children talking, dinner being cooked, the TV is on, but I can make no sense of any of it. I don’t even know what day it is, or what time I took my last lot of pills, and I can no longer take solace in a cup of tea because everything tastes like metal.

My phone beeps and the postman arrives and I know people are willing me on, but I can’t respond because I’ve been stripped of my wits and it takes too much effort to talk.

So I sit cocooned in a blanket on the sofa and wait. Because this will pass. And I will revive. And feel like me again.

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4 thoughts on “Sinking

  1. Jeez Sal, we are truly willing you on. In the depths of your poisoned exhaustion, please know there are lots of us just simply willing you on. Hope revival comes soon. Bloody chemo.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m sure like everyone else, I feel utterly useless and can’t think of a single thing I can say to add any comfort. All I can say is that I am thinking about you every day.

    Liked by 1 person

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