Which according to my own stated philosophy of my cancer journey means I should explain myself.
I was very exhausted. More so than is usual for a post-chemo Monday. This inflected my mood and my affect, as well as ability to do anything. I've started taking the post-chemo Mondays off of work, knowing this is an issue, but yesterday was pretty dreadful. Also, I had not passed anything from my lower GI since the previous Thursday morning, and so my physical discomfort was becoming extreme. This in turn affects how willing I am to eat anything at all. (All three of my med cycles must be taken with food.) This in turn affects my energy and well-being. You can readily envision the cycle.
It didn't help that one of my family members kept bombarding me with email all day asking goofy questions that they could have Googled as easily as I. (Not to mention suggesting I, who have not been able to get behind the wheel of a car for two months, drive across town and take a picture of something for them. What do they think I do with my time on chemo?) Nor that another family member kept doing this in person, on a day when I can barely spell my own name. Finally I had to get snappy about that.
I know I'm inconsistent about this — I don't want to be set aside as useless, but there are days when I am useless, and anyone close to me knows that post-chemo Monday is one of those days. So I wind up feeling embarrassed and depressed and frustrated. It's a not particularly constructive mental space to be in, so I acquire another meta-layer of embarrassment and depression and frustration at my own responses.
Meanwhile, the GI situation was just terrible. Lisa Costello drove me over to the oncology clinic to get my Neulasta shot, which is its own special kind of fun, or will be in a few days when the bone pain kicks in. On the way back, my gut started acting up hard, which is what sometimes happens when I am in a car for any length of time these days. On the plus side, this loosens things up. On the minus side, I can't do anything about the agonizing cramps except hold it in while practicing my breathing.
We got home and I ducked into the bathroom, where I literally spent a continuous hour very slowly passing stool. Like the worst aspects of diarrhea and constipation combined. This isn't the only path my GI takes through chemo, but it's one of them. It's unpleasant as hell, but the relief is worth the trouble. I'll probably have to do it once or twice more before things settle at all.
At least after that, I could eat a little.
So hopefully, a better day today. At least I woke up decently and exercised.