I discovered on Thursday that the tumour hasn’t shrunk by anywhere near the amount they would have hope through chemo, so instead of cutting it out, I am to undergo more chemo. I asked if they could operate, but apparently the only way to remove the tumour through surgery at the moment would be to amputate my leg below the knee, so I opted for chemo.
I reacted to this the only way I know how and ran away. I got in my car and drove to Eastbourne with the intention of throwing myself off Beachy Head but couldn’t bring myself to do it so drove onto Hastings where an old friend of mine lives, but instead of contacting them I just sat and got hideously drunk. My sister (who is over at the moment) eventually rang me to find out where I was, so I told her I was in Hastings and couldn’t possibly drive my car back as I was drunk and she got the train down and drove me and my car back to London. She had been with me in the oncology appointment so knew I was feeling pretty screwy and we had a long chat, which involved me telling her what my plan was for being on the south coast.
Now my Mum/sister is controlling all my tablets, although I have my own supply of venlafaxine from a prescription that I collected today. The pharmacist told me that venlafaxine/Efexor is one of the best drugs to be on. I just looked at him and nodded, whereupon he reiterated that there really wasn’t any class of anti-depressant better than the SNRIs. I just mumbled “yeah ok” and confirmed my address; I really wasn’t in the mood to be chatting to a well meaning pharmacist who was probably going to spout some crap at me about pharmokinetics.
I want to cut. I want to cause horrendous damage to myself. I’ve taken the sutures out from last Saturday, although one of the cuts is infected, but hopefully it’ll clear up on it’s own, and I had a huge urge to open all of them up again. I didn’t in the end, but I don’t quite trust myself at the moment.
No one appears to trust me at the moment. I don’t trust me, my Mum doesn’t trust me, my sister doesn’t trust me and my CPN, despite the fact I spoke to her yesterday afternoon after my Mum rang the CMHT, is still not going to move the appointment forwards stating I can always see my GP or ring the Samaritans if I feel I need more support between now and the 20th. I felt like telling her some fucking support would be nice, but I resisted.