As I look back and try to recollect last week, it’s mostly a blur: I don’t remember much. I understand now what chemo fatigue is. For example. Sunday morning, I woke up feeling pretty good; I decided to take the dog out for a walk. After five blocks, I was wiped out, and needed to head home. I collapsed on the couch and couldn’t get up for three hours.

This is my “off week” (the infusions are every other week). I’m back at work this week, which is challenging, as I certainly don’t feel awesome. While the fatigue has diminished, it’s still a thing: I need to lie down often.

The olanzapine they prescribed (mentioned in my last post): me no likey. Yes, it knocked me out at night, but I was still a zombie from it well into the next day. And that was just half a pill. Not taking that anymore.

Not everything is bad. Chemo seems to enhance my sense of smell; I’m noticing various smells that seem new to me. Also, it gave me a strong craving for sautéed mushrooms. I cooked up mushrooms, garlic and greens over the weekend and it was unusually satisfying.

I’ll tell you, the worst thing is when I just can’t explain what’s going on. Such was the case last night, when I had a puzzling mixture of sensations: sore throat, watery eyes, blurred vision, numbness in legs. And no appetite. None of this made sense, and I ended waking up at midnight in a full-scale panic attack, struggling to describe any of this and wondering if it was serious.

I eventually got back to sleep, and I’m ok now. I’m realizing this is part of the process. Chemo causes a lot of intense stuff to happen in the body. And the side effects aren’t always easy to explain.

Over the past week, I switched my phone background to this 1904 painting by Diego Rivera. I’ve been staring at it a lot and finding it comforting — something else I can’t really explain. So be it; I’ll embrace the mystery.