Is The Torture Worth The Result?

The last couple of days have been torturous.  Not gonna lie.

Ben is 7 days post chemo drip. (Yes, seven.  The average person would say “six days in” since he had it last Monday and today is Sunday.  But I was abruptly informed this week that when one is counting chemo days, they count Day One as the actual day on which the chemo was administered.  So in other words, last Monday was Day One, which makes today (Sunday) Day Seven. Tomorrow is Day Eight, which means Ben goes into hospital for a quick 30 minute chemo top up, and then nothing until Day Twenty One when the whole thing starts over.  For those wondering, Day Twenty One is counted from Day One, not from Day Eight when he gets his top up.  So basically, the plan is for Ben to continually either be having chemo, or suffering the effects of it.  In other words, to be constantly tortured.)

For the first few days, Ben was nauseas. The anti nausea meds worked well enough that he never actually vomited, but not well enough to prevent him from laying around with that horrid sick feeling that never quite goes away.  Then the exhaustion set in. Chemo fatigue, I’m told.  Its normal, I’m told.  (Is there anything “normal” about poisoning the crap out of your body and suffering a multitude of horrible side effects?)  In any case, Ben has literally been unable to move himself off the couch for a week.  Total and complete exhaustion, intermingled with nausea.


But the final kick in the head for him (or maybe I should clarify “most recent” kick in the head, because who knows what other treats are in store for him) is the tinnitus.

Tinnitus (/ˈtɪnɪtəs/ or /tɪˈntəs/) is the hearing of sound when no external sound is present.[1] While often described as a ringing, it may also sound like a clicking, hiss or roaring.[2] Rarely, unclear voices or music are heard.[3] The sound may be soft or loud, low pitched or high pitched and appear to be coming from one ear or both.[2]  

Do you know what you do to treat Tinnitus?  NOTHING.  There is NOTHING that can be done.

Ben is being driven mad by the sounds he is hearing.   IMG_1629  Yesterday was the worst day, and it got progressively worse all day.  It became so bad that he ultimately forgot to take his medications, which then left him in unbearable pain last night.  (If you are wondering why I didn’t ensure that he took his medications on time, then you are obviously reading this blog from afar and are unaware of just how stubborn My Man can be when it comes to “being monitored” or, as he likes to put it, “being babied”.  Ben got so annoyed with me monitoring his meds that he deleted all the medication information from our E-calendar so that I couldn’t keep asking him if he had taken his meds.  I had to create a secret calendar and re-write everything so he couldn’t see it, and then he just started saying ‘yes’ when I asked him if he had taken them.  I believed him until I started seeing meds left in the containers at the end of the day.)  In any case, none of that really matters….I just want him pain free and not hearing noises that make him want to rip out his ear drums.

Before he went to bed I organized all his medications and ensured the calendar was updated.  He took his pain meds and eventually drifted off.  I never really know how well he sleeps, or even if he is asleep, because he generally keeps his eyes closed and ear buds in his ears at all times to fend off the other noises.  I tell myself he’s sleeping well, because that eases my anxiety.

(***Side Note….I spoke too soon about Ben not vomiting.  As I was writing this post, the vomiting has started on Day Seven.  It is over for now and Ben is back in bed resting***)

So that is where we stand on this Sunday morning, seven days post chemo drip.  We were supposed to go with the girls over to Vancouver Island this weekend, where we planned to stay with my sister and brother-in-law at their cabin.  The girls were going to enjoy a weekend of water fun while Ben and I relaxed in the sun.  Unfortunately the weather took a turn for the worse, so we postponed the trip until this upcoming Wednesday.  Good thing, because Ben definitely could not have gone over on the weekend.  At this point I am wondering if he will be able to go at all.  We will see.

In between this mess of side effects, we (Saint-Onge Five) did spend Friday in Vancouver with the blood doctor (blood clots), and we spent an hour with the oncologist and the counsellor. I think that meeting was valuable for all of us, although I was a blubbering mess for most of it while the kids were the strong ones.  Zak asked detailed questions and I was very impressed by him.  He is definitely a man now.  I miss the little boy days, but I am so grateful for his strength right now.


All of us were able to ask our questions over the course of the hour, and there were some good questions.  In the midst of this tough discussion about cancer / chemo / side effects / anticipated results etc, the oncologist looked at Raegan sitting there quietly, and asked her if she had any particular questions that needed answering.  Surprisingly, she said ‘yes.’  Then she looked at him and asked, “If I had to go in one of those machines that take pictures (MRI), would I be able to do that even though I have braces? I’ve just always wondered.”


God love my children!  That was just the laugh we needed.  And incase you are wondering, the answer was ‘yes’.  LOL.

So….the question I posed was, “Is the torture worth the result?”  I don’t know.  I guess that depends what the result is.


Hug your families.  xox  Wendy

9 thoughts on “Is The Torture Worth The Result?

  1. I don’t think that question is answerable right now. I wish life had a FF button so we never had to second-guess ourselves. Lacking that, however, we do what seems best in the moment. That’s what you’ve been doing…and it’s all you can do.

    The weather gods have promised sunshine and heat for Wednesday – we look forward to your arrival. If the tinnitus is still present, tell Ben I will sing for him…that should cure it 🙂

    In the meantime, know that your strength (demonstrated by all 5 of you) is inspirational and that you are loved and supported by everyone sharing your journey.

    All my love ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  2. It is 8:37 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Rob & I are having our coffee in the front room as we always do first thing on the weekends. Normally this is a very enjoyable time, and very relaxing. Right now we are both feeling ‘sick’, ‘sad’, and ‘angry’ at how unfair life can be at times. Thinking of Ben being so ill, Wendy beside herself with worry, and three grandchildren about to come face to face with all this anguish as soon as they get out of their beds. What to do? I just don’t know.This is the most ‘lost’ I think I’ve ever felt.
    We’ll head over to the Saint-Onge household shortly & maybe we’ll come up with a plan to help ease all this pain.
    I need to see that smile, Ben!

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Ben, and all of you… know that you are never out of my thoughts. I can’t get my head around the unfairness of it all. Ben will know if or when it’s time to stop. In the meantime I’m here for you every second, and constantly in awe of the strength, grace and determination of each of you. All my love, barbara

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I do not believe at this point and time that the torture is worth the end results. Chemo therapy kills more people than save them. I wish I was a magician and make all this go away. It is not fair and I hate this fun c word. Why does it even exist? Benny you are your own man and capable to make your own decision. You know how you were feeling before this fnk chemo therapy. I am 100% behind you whatever you decide to do with regards to taking further chemo treatment. Love you Bud. XO Dad.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. A Dad’s desperation for his son….my heart is with all of you and with my husband….the distance is yet another unfair disadvantage….but we remain with you and are working desperately with our emotions in an effort to comfort his child and family….xo

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Invictus
    by William Ernest Henley

    Out of the night that covers me,
    Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
    I thank whatever gods may be
    For my unconquerable soul.

    In the fell clutch of circumstance
    I have not winced nor cried aloud.
    Under the bludgeonings of chance
    My head is bloody, but unbowed.

    Beyond this place of wrath and tears
    Looms but the Horror of the shade,
    And yet the menace of the years
    Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

    It matters not how strait the gate,
    How charged with punishments the scroll,
    I am the master of my fate:
    I am the captain of my soul.

    Liked by 5 people

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