The night before my first chemotherapy session, I was terrified. Sleep felt impossible. The word chemo scared me just as much as cancer did. I didn’t know how my body would react, and the uncertainty was overwhelming. Everyone experiences chemo differently, what if I had every side effect possible? My husband could see how anxious I was, so he took me on a late-night walk, hoping it would help me relax and go to sleep. I had packed my hospital bag (with snacks, drinks, comfort items, lip balm & moisturizer, headphones & charger and colouring book), but nothing could really prepare me for what was coming. My treatment plan was four biweekly cycles of Epirubicin Cyclophosphamide (EC) - also known as the red devil - followed by four more biweekly cycles of Paclitaxel.
Walking into the chemotherapy suite at the Sussex Cancer Centre, I was met with warm smiles from the nurses, their kindness was a beacon of comfort. First came the routine checks: weight, blood pressure, oxygen levels. Then I followed my own little routine, one that became my comfort. A quick bathroom stop before being hooked up to the scalp cooling machine and the IV drip. Then I’d wrap myself in the hospital’s electric blanket, get as cozy as possible, and lose myself in a book. During my first chemo infusion, the nurse gently administered the EC through a cannula in my right hand. It was painless but came with a strange, metallic taste that caught me off guard. Since then, I always brought strong-flavored snacks to mask the unexpected flavor. By my second cycle, the EC had inflamed my vein, causing painful blood clots in my right arm. Before my third cycle, I had a PICC line fitted under local anaesthesia, which made everything so much easier. No more struggling to find a vein. No more painful cannulas. The PICC line allowed chemo to go straight into my bloodstream and made blood draws a breeze. Since I’d had full lymph node clearance on my left side, avoiding Lymphedema was crucial, so my right arm was my only option. The PICC needed weekly flushing to prevent blockages, and I had to wear a waterproof cover in the shower, but honestly, it was worth it. At first, chemo wasn’t as bad as I had feared. I stayed active, ate well, and had only a few rough days per cycle. And quickly a pattern emerged: Days 3 to 5 were the hardest, but then I’d slowly bounce back until the next round. But by my third cycle, the side effects really started to hit. Chemotherapy impacted my sense of taste, food was often bitter and tasteless. With the taste of food and drinks being unpredictable and very often unpleasant, I lost my appetite and passion for cooking. The steroids they gave me to prevent allergic reactions were a double-edged sword. At first, they gave me a burst of energy, but that came with intense irritability and mood swings. Then, once I finished the dose for each cycle, the crash hit me like a brick wall, leaving me completely drained for days. On top of that, they wreaked havoc on my stomach, causing indigestion, constipation, and painful cramps. One of the most unexpected parts of chemo was the sheer number of medications I had to take. Before this, I rarely even reached for paracetamol. Suddenly, I was on steroids, anti-nausea meds, anti-constipation meds, G-CSF injections to boost my bone marrow, codeine for joint pain, eye drops for dryness and itching, and even essential oils for my brittle, greying nails. It’s ironic really, not only am I sick but what is making me less sick is making me more sick. It’s like being trapped in a never-ending cycle of sickness.
Since chemo affects everyone differently, I kept track of my side effects in a journal. Knowing what to expect each cycle helped me plan my life; when to rest, when to see friends, when to do something fun on a “good” day. I also found so much comfort in talking to other cancer patients at the chemo suite and in my Macmillan support group. Just knowing that others were going through the same aches, pains, and struggles made me feel less alone. We swapped tips, shared what worked for us, and supported each other through the hardest days. If you’re going through cancer treatment, I know how overwhelming it can be. There are countless resources, books, support groups, advice on side effects... but sometimes just hearing from others who understand makes all the difference. I’d love to hear from you, what has helped you through treatment? What’s been the most unexpected part of your journey?
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