I've got books specifically about cancer and depression. Thus far, I haven't really felt a need to spend much time with them. But now...
It's tough to think your life has much meaning when it takes all your energy to visit the washroom; when watching TV is a major effort; when you haven't left the house in a couple days; when you finally find enough energy to do some online research only to discover extremely depressing statistics about mean time for survival with irinotecan or with Avastin treatment or even mean time to continued progression of disease; when you can't accept visitors because you don't have the energy; when you have to postpone treatment after only one session; when the dosage will be decreased by 20 percent; when the future doesn't look like it will get any better, even for a short period of time.
Yes, probably a very negative perspective. But is it unrealistic?
There are forms I need to fill in merely to be sick with cancer, but I can't find the energy to do the work. There are financial decisions to be made, but I can't concentrate. There are books from friends and family, but I can barely read a couple pages when I need to rest.
I can't even blog with enthusiasm right now. My mind feels as fatigued and lethargic as my body.
Friends, family, and colleagues remain extremely supportive, but I can't even find a sense of fulfillment to say thanks.
So, I guess this is the face of depression.