Eleven Days After Whole Brain Radiation

I want to go to sleep and not wake up until all my symptoms are gone. But I guess that’s unrealistic. My throat isn’t any better in spite of the meds and home remedies. And I’m still starting the day with vomiting, which isn’t a great way to start the day. It doesn’t help my raw throat much, either. My throat is still congested; I still sound like a frog; my ears still feel as if they’re going to explode, and I still get esophageal spasms every time I swallow. The spasms extend from my throat into my Eustachian tubes. Eating or drinking anything takes forever. I swallow, wait 5 or 10 minutes for the spasm to stop, swallow some more, wait 5 or 10 minutes, and repeat. So it takes a long time to eat, and it’s exhausting.

I’m developing sores on my neck and scalp. And they itch. I’m trying not to scratch, because the last thing I need is an infection on my skin. I clean gently, pat dry, then liberally apply pure Shea Butter. So far, I have no mouth sores. There are sore spots inside my ears and nostrils; they get the same Shea Butter treatment, and that seems to help.

I’m having no trouble sleeping. I think it’s my body’s way of giving me respite from not being able to swallow, and the spasms.

My eyes have become super dry. And my vision is a little off, especially at the end of the day. I haven’t even worn my contact lenses for a week, because I just couldn’t read with them. I can read with my glasses, but even then I sometimes have to strain to really see. We live in a desert, and my aging eyes are dry anyway, but this feels different.

I’m not feeling very steady and find myself shuffling around like those ancient men and women you see in nursing homes. They’re shuffling along with walkers, or hanging on to the wall rails, or pushing their wheelchairs along with their feet.

On a lighter note; I tried to take a bath a couple of days ago, thinking it would help me feel better. I totally didn’t take into account how low down the bathtub is, how inflexible I’ve become, and how hard it might be to get in and out of the tub. It was basically a comedy of errors. It took 10 minutes for me to figure out how to get in, turn around, and sit down, without dropping on my butt hard enough to break my tailbone. I managed it. But in the process, I somehow opened the drain, and all that lovely hot water infused with bath salts disappeared down the drain in no time. So then I had to figure out how to hoist myself up, close the drain, and get more hot water into the tub. And then I had to figure out how to lower myself back into the water without splashing all of it out of the tub and all over the bathroom floor.

Spud came into the bathroom once to see what I was doing. He gave me one of those ‘you’re-a-crazy-human-and-I-want-nothing-to-do-with-you’ looks and plopped himself down in the doorway to watch the fun. I can’t blame him – it was pretty funny.

So then I had to figure out how to get myself into a standing position. The only way I could do that was turn myself over so I was on all fours – and that took a few minutes. Spud sat in the doorway with a concerned look on his face, but I know he was snickering at me. At one point he left, and I thought perhaps he had gone to get Steve for help. But nooo. He went to get Peanut, and they both sat in the doorway snickering.

I finally managed to turn myself over and stand up. And I decided then and there NO MORE BATHS! Until we win the lottery and can get one of those walk-in bathtubs. Or until I can work on losing weight and working on my flexibility.

It’s okay. You can laugh. You know you want to. I would be laughing, but it hurts my throat.

Onward and Upward.