This is so true everyone is saying do this do that when I’m still trying to let this last infusion do its job and have felt sick. It’s not a case OK Trial over that’s it you are fit and well I’m still pacing myself and the weather isn’t helping. But what is nice is to know that I will get my strength back . Its been a long 2 years of fighting MR Nasty. That has been the biggest battle of my life. Nobody has ever treated me as nasty ans Mr Nasty and I hated him. I hated what he did to my family. The sadness he bought and crucified my loved ones as well as me. He turned my husband into my carer who had a heartache with all the worry and who didn’t look after his own health. His blood pressure went sky-high along with his blood sugars. He had a stent operation and my Son and DIL had to take over being carers when then could fit it in with their working life.
My son said this week he had buried me 3 times and his father once. Can you imagine the grief and the roller coaster life they have travelled for 7 years.
I’m trying to make it better now but my extreme tiredness day-to-day is stopping me. We are having such a cold wet summer and that is not helping. So I have another battle to be back to my old self.
Then today I have read about the spoons and so I will take one spoon at a time until I collect and unlimited supply. I have been to a place 2 years ago where all my spoons were taken away now I’m being given them back one by one. Im so happy and I will use them wisely I promise.
I have so much work to do as the battle for Asbestos Awareness is not over and I have now to battle for more research into Mesothelioma and get drugs through to Mesowarriors so that they can have their spoons given back.
Read below how one cancer fighter’s “Spoon Theory” helped a survivor understand her side effects better. A Guest Blog Courtney Cormier is an Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia survivor she writes —–
Jenny Lawson, aka The Bloggess. Lawson writes openly about her physical and mental ailments. In one of her essays, she wrote about the Spoon Theory, and it was like I was hit with a bolt of lightning—someone had put into words what I had been struggling to explain to others for five years.
The Spoon Theory is this—you have only so many spoons to get through your day. When you’re healthy, your spoon supply seems unlimited—it doesn’t “cost” you that many spoons to get through your day from the moment you wake up until the time you go to bed. When you’re sick, your spoon supply becomes limited. This theory is typically applied to chronic illness, or to the idea of “but you don’t look sick.” I think, though, this theory applies whether you’re going through cancer treatment for a short period of time, a prolonged treatment time, or, ultimately, dealing with a chronic illness.
The first chemotherapy regimen I underwent in 2011 didn’t leave me looking like I had cancer. My hair thinned a little, and I actually gained a little weight because I was on steroids. But my energy level tanked.
At first, I tried to maintain my lifestyle—running, lunch or dinner with friends, running errands, trying to cram as much as I could into the day. That lasted about one month until I realized I was wearing myself down in conjunction with what the chemo was doing.
Without having a name for it at the time, I had to start using my spoons wisely. I typically had enough energy to do one thing each day—take a shower, or go to Target, or go to lunch with a friend—but I couldn’t do all three. The thing with the spoons is that every task, every action requires a spoon. Wake up and fix breakfast, one spoon; take a shower, one spoon; get dressed, one spoon; dry my hair, one spoon; and so on. Maybe you wake up one morning and you feel like you have six spoons to spend on the day, but once you use those six spoons, you’re out. You become choosy about how you use those spoons during the day.
I let my spoons go by the wayside for the next couple of years following my first chemo regimen as I continued to undergo tougher chemo and radiation regimens that left me with zero spoons each day. Well, maybe I had two spoons—one for getting out of bed and moving to the sofa, and a second spoon for going to bed at night.
We left our home for a total of nine months between July 2013 and July 2014 for treatment out-of-state. When we returned home, I brought home a chronic illness—end stage renal failure. Again, from the outside I didn’t necessarily look sick, but I was weak and needed a considerable amount of help.
I was back to counting spoons. I became even stingier with how I spent my spoons. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I had to go to a clinic for dialysis. Just getting to and from dialysis used all my spoons for the day. Those days, I was left with no spoons for myself or my husband. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends I had a couple of extra spoons, but not many. I was back to choosing the one thing I would do that day, usually lunch with a friend. But sometimes just getting ready to go to lunch would use up my spoons so I was forced to either cancel on my friend or have them bring lunch to me while I recuperated on the sofa.
I’ve switched the type of dialysis I do, which has given me a few more spoons to get through my day, but I’m still picky about how I use them. During the past five years of cancer treatment and now end stage kidney failure, I’ve learned to slow down and be particular about how I spend my time and expend my energy. I find that I still sometimes struggle to say no, and I sometimes do too much in one day; when that happens, I’ve learned to slow down the following day and take time for the rest I need to recharge.
What was your spoon count during treatment? Talk about it in the comments below!