(Writer’s note: The contents of this blog may be difficult to read).

A body out of control. That’s what chemotherapy feels like to me on this the fourth day of my first cycle of treatment.

I entered into chemo mentally and physically ready to accept the poisonous chemotherapy drugs that will hopefully rid me of my cancer. I was happy to finally get the treatments started, having waited for four months.

As a cancer patient, you’re told that chemotherapy has cumulative side effects. I was surprised how quickly the side effects came on and how they can change in less than a day.

I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t, despite the many briefing sessions and an array of reading I had done ahead of time. Part of the preparation included having many people around me who care, help, and stay in touch by phone or email. They are blessings in my life and are my link to the outside world.

But ultimately, this cancer walk is a solitary sojourn. I travel on this treatment journey very much alone. Only those who have walked this cancer trail before me can fully understand what it feels like.

It’s also a lonely walk. For my own protection, with chemo treatments I will become immunity-compromised (the second week of treatment makes me most vulnerable), so I can get sick relatively easily. I have to stay away from crowds, public places, and pets.

I feel like a prisoner in my own home, as it is the safest and cleanest place for me to spend these next 18 weeks while under treatment. The only public places I envision spending time in these next few months will be associated with my daughter’s wedding, if I am well enough to attend.

The first and second days of chemo were fine. I got through the first 48 hours relatively nausea free. The potent nausea drugs worked (it took us three drug stores to finally get them) and I managed to handle food and its preparation. My energy levels were pretty good.

Then came Day three. It hit hard. Chemo’s side effects surfaced.

I’m not a cryer, but I burst into tears three times during the day. They came from nowhere, without provocation. Was it hormone adjustments to chemo or just one of its many complications?

My mouth started to get dry overnight. It felt like a stampede of turkeys trotted through it. This occurs even though I have to drink a minimum of two litres of water a day to flush my body of chemo to prevent it from accumulating near my vital organs where it can damage them if left sitting there too long.

My taste buds have been deadened. I have no appetite and the smell of food makes my stomach spin. It aches with hunger, but I can’t eat. I have to force food into my body because it needs nutrition to offset the chemotherapy and rebuild healthy cells that are getting killed with the treatment. I get dry heaves just brushing my teeth.

As I write this blog, I just finished steeping a pot of fresh ginger and honey tea so that it can ease the butterflies in my stomach to try and eat something this morning. It tastes awful, but I’m hoping it will work. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to finish it.

I am cold all of the time while the weather outside is in the mid 20’s and sunny. My skin is getting drier, flakier, and is starting to itch as the moisture is sucked out of it with chemo. Dark circles are starting under my eyes due to a lack of restful sleep. My scalp hurts. I’m told this is how it starts to feel once chemo churns through my body in advance of shedding hair.

I’m lightheaded. Then there is the tiredness. I drift off into catnaps just sitting in a living room chair. This is not common behavior for me as I have never been a napper.

But it could be worse.

As I was getting infused with chemo, my nurse said one of her patients is a young man with little children who works as a construction worker. He comes in for his treatment, then returns to work because he has no sick leave benefits and has to provide for his family while he’s sick. She told me I was fortunate to be off work while in treatment, and to be glad that I don’t live in the U.S. to get the medical coverage I need for cancer.

I am lucky. My employer has provided me with sick leave benefits, enabling me to stay home and recover from treatments. I am also grateful for our universal health care system that is paying for all of the costs of my cancer treatments. Estimates say the various stages of treatment could climb to many tens of thousands of dollars when they’re all done.

The chemotherapy is liquid gold for a second chance at life. It’s one that I’m not sure I could afford if I had to pay for it on my own. As a friend said a few days ago: “Chemo is your friend.” I honor that friendship dearly.

I live with cancer, one hour at a time, one day at a time. I move forward in this cancer journey taking one step at a time and do so with Strength, Courage, and Determination.