I first had chemo when I was 43. I was on a limited contract at work so didn't have any sick leave available and if I didn't meet the deadlines for the project I was working on I would have lost my job. So I worked.
I was very fit at that stage of my life and it wasn't until the dread pegfilgrastim came onto the scene that I needed any more than two days off after chemo.
I was a sole parent and breadwinner so that was also a motivating factor. To be honest, it wasn't that bad. I had AC chemo during the winter and ended up having a great time with wigs and hats. I was tired, but even that was manageable. Things went a bit pear shaped when I had my surgery (pun intended) but by that time I my contract had run out and I was just working as a casual so there wasn't so much pressure to drag my arse into town every day.
Ten years later my cancer returned and I was back on the chemo bus. TC this time. I was absolutely shocked at how sick I was. There is no way I could hold down even a part time job and ended up living on my savings for a year. Mentally I am not coping as well and I feel like I am just dragging myself forward very, very slowly
I had a very poor relationship with my first medical oncologists--I hated their guts. Maybe that rage and the pressure of having someone who was relying on me gave me extra strength. I really don't know.
I guess my message is no amount of preparation is going to make any difference--there is no way of knowing how you will cope until you are up to your neck in it. Good luck,
Marg xxx