One Day at a Time: Living and Healing Through Chemo
- Yusnimah
- Aug 3, 2025
- 5 min read
Chemo is strange. One day I wake up with a burst of energy - like I could run a marathon (not literally, but that kind of excited, clear-headed energy that makes you want to do something). The next day, I wake up in a fog, aching, nauseous, or just deeply tired, and all I can manage is sitting still with a warm cup of matcha.
Healing has taught me not to expect the same thing from each day. I used to think progress would look consistent, like steps climbing upward. Now I understand healing is a wave, up and down, soft and stormy. Some days I have to sit completely still and let it pass. Other days, I ride the momentum. The key is learning to meet each day without judgment.
My Side Effects - and How I’m Moving Through Them
Every chemo journey is different. Some people face extremely tough side effects. Mine have been manageable so far, and I feel lucky for that. But it’s still a lot to navigate. I’ve experienced nausea, fatigue, body aches, brain fog, and hair loss - each arriving in its own way, demanding patience and creativity in how I respond.
Nausea didn’t hit me right away. It came a bit later, and even then, it’s been manageable - largely thanks to my doctor. Early on, they prepared me for what might come and prescribed medication in advance, so I could stay ahead of the discomfort instead of reacting to it. I feel fortunate that we live in a time where doctors understand the common side effects of chemo and help us manage them with care and expertise. Even on days when I feel a little off, I still have a strong appetite and genuinely enjoy eating. I try to maintain a balanced diet, while keeping nausea remedies in mind. Sipping hot ginger tea - freshly steeped with lemon or honey - soothes my stomach, and ginger candies help when I’m out or need a quick fix. Being able to cook and enjoy food, even through treatment, has been one of the unexpected joys of this process.
Fatigue is one of the hardest parts. It doesn’t feel like regular tiredness. It’s deeper, heavier - as if my body is asking for full permission to pause. On those days, I don’t push. I lie down, take a nap if I need one, and try not to feel guilty for being still. But on days when I do have energy, I use it slowly. I’ve found that going for a 30-minute walk whenever possible helps rebuild my strength, especially after my full hysterectomy. It clears my mind and makes me feel like I’m moving again, even if gently.
Brain fog, or “chemo brain,” has been frustrating - but also a little funny, if I let it be. I’ve had full conversations where I completely forgot the point halfway through. I walk into rooms with great purpose, only to stand there wondering what I was so determined to do. Time? I lose track of it like it’s a set of keys. I try to laugh at these moments - because otherwise, I might cry or get annoyed, and honestly, laughter feels better. I’ve started using my phone for everything - reminders, notes, even grocery lists because if I rely on memory alone, I’ll end up buying five lemons and forgetting the one thing I went to the store for.
Giving myself grace is part of the routine now... and so is double-checking my phone every five minutes.
Hot flashes have become a regular part of my days (and nights) since I entered surgical menopause after my hysterectomy. The sudden waves of heat, the sweaty wake-ups, the irritability—they add another layer of discomfort to chemo recovery. I’ve written more about how I’m handling this part of the journey in another blog post: Hot Flushes After Hysterectomy: The Summer Struggle Is Real . It's a part of healing that deserves attention in its own right.
Hair loss has been emotional. It started falling out after the third session of my first cycle. It’s strange to watch it happen, even if you’re expecting it. Some days I cover my head, and other days I don’t. I’ve learned not to measure my strength or beauty by what’s on my head. It’s one more outward sign of the healing that’s happening inside.
Body aches tend to show up more at night, settling into my joints and muscles - especially in my legs. I try to stretch gently in the mornings and again before bed to stay loose. These aches are a reminder that my body is working incredibly hard to heal. I believe in meeting that effort with care: warm baths, heating pads, and magnesium lotion can bring real relief, especially when rest alone isn’t enough.
Finding Comfort in Small Things
Even with the side effects, I’ve found comfort in small, steady joys. Cooking has been a blessing - my appetite is still strong, and preparing food brings me into the moment. The simple act of chopping, stirring, and tasting reminds me I’m still creating something good.
Caring for my plants has also been healing. Watching them grow slowly reminds me that I am, too - no rush, just steady progress beneath the surface.
Most days, I turn to quiet things: reading, music, or a familiar movie. When the brain fog hits, I don’t force focus. I let the sounds and stories wash over me, and that’s enough.
And then there’s walking. A short walk in fresh air helps me feel more like myself. It supports my recovery and reminds me - I’m still here, still moving, still healing.
Emotional Healing Is Part of It Too
Chemo affects more than just the body - it touches your heart, thoughts, and confidence. Some days I’m hopeful and grateful; others, I cry for no clear reason. Then there are the flat days when nothing moves me. I’ve learned to accept it all as part of the journey.
Giving myself space to feel helps - whether through journaling, talking to trusted people, or simply sitting with my emotions without judgment.
There’s no prize for pretending to be okay. True strength comes from honesty, softness, and listening to your body with care, not force.
What I’m Learning, One Day at a Time
This journey has taught me that healing isn’t always heroic. As someone with high expectations and a bit of a perfectionist streak, learning to adjust to all of this has been a challenge and a lesson in itself. Sometimes healing is just getting out of bed, laughing at a cooking show, making soup, or taking a long shower. Sometimes it’s canceling plans or simply remembering you’re still you, no matter what’s changing.
If you’re going through chemo, surgery, or recovery, know this: not every day has to be productive or brave. Some days will knock you down, others lift you up and that’s okay. Move at your own pace.
Healing isn’t pretending. It’s listening, being present, and taking the next step, however small.
You’re doing better than you think.
“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.”
-Maya Angelou
"If you have tips or experiences with managing chemo side effects, I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Whether it’s a small habit that helped or just a story you feel like sharing, this space is open - because healing can feel a little easier when we talk about it, together."
Comments