I mentioned before that the fatigue from repeated rounds of chemotherapy has started to build up. I’m still recovering from my last surgery, and my abdominal muscles occasionally remind me that they’re not quite happy yet. I’m not even ready for light resistance bands at this point.

So whenever I’m not sick, I walk. And honestly, sometimes I walk even when I am sick, because I simply can’t stand being stuck at home any longer. Movement has always been a natural part of my life. It has also become one of the ways I keep a sense of control. Or at least the feeling of control.

Right now, so many things are outside of my control that it makes me uneasy. So I focus on the things I can still influence and actively work on.

Today marks exactly two months since my last surgery. During that operation, they removed my uterus, ovaries, fallopian tubes, appendix, part of my peritoneum, and the remaining metastasis. I had read that some symptoms of surgically induced menopause can appear almost immediately, but for a while I felt fine.

Until last week.

The hot flashes arrived.

Out of nowhere, I suddenly feel intensely hot and start sweating all over. Since I don’t have any hair again, my entire head gets soaked. Most days I’d happily strip down and walk around in a swimsuit. It was only 23°C outside, and I felt completely drained. Last year I definitely wasn’t like this. In Thailand, I used to go running at noon in the hottest part of the day. I could do 10 kilometers under the blazing sun without it bothering me at all.

I’m curious to see how I survive this summer, because even before all of this, I was never exactly someone who stayed cool.

Back in Thailand, when the doctor first told me it looked like cancer, I didn’t believe him. I was convinced it was “just” a nasty infection that would be treated once I got home. Maybe I’d need surgery, but then I’d recover, get back on my feet, and fly straight back.

Because of that, I didn’t bring any summer clothes with me. Everything stayed in the wardrobe in our house in Thailand.

Up until now, I’ve been wearing long trousers and hoodies, but that stopped being an option. I finally had to go shopping. I bought as little fabric as possible—shorts, tank tops, and anything that might help me survive the heat. I even bought a few dresses because apparently I’m supposed to look like a girl once in a while.

So what else has been bothering me after surgery?

Sometimes I don’t sleep very well. Then again, who does?

If I start researching something, I don’t stop until I’ve gone down every rabbit hole. Supplements, treatment options, summer plans—you name it. A few nights in a row I’ll stay up far too late. Then eventually there’s one evening when I crawl into bed at the same time as my son and somehow catch up on all the sleep I’ve missed. It works for me, so I don’t worry about it too much.

People often tell me that at least I’ll lose some weight now that I’m sick. Well, things do fall off me these days—just not kilograms.

My weight still refuses to cooperate. It fluctuates by about six kilos over the course of a month, up and down. At the moment, I’m still making up for lost ground when it comes to exercise and nutrition, so nothing about that surprises me. I’ve started eating better again, and I’m finally beginning to exercise a little more, so we’ll see where that leads.

My fingers and feet swell quite a bit. I drop things all the time. I have to concentrate much harder when I’m doing simple tasks. On the bright side, it forces me to be more present in the moment, and that’s rarely a bad thing.

Mood swings haven’t been much of an issue.

Fatigue is another story.

I’ve had a cold for three weeks now. I’m coughing, sniffling, and generally sounding far less glamorous than usual. So I honestly don’t know whether the exhaustion comes from the cold, the chemotherapy, or menopause. I’m still waiting to see whether it improves or whether this is simply my new reality for now.

With a young son at home, spending all day lying on the sofa isn’t really an option.

He caught the same cold, so we spent three days at home together and I didn’t have to accomplish much of anything. Once he started feeling better, we went back outside again. But I still can’t run with him, climb things, jump over puddles, and play the way I did before treatment.

I probably could force myself to do it.

I just don’t want to.

It takes too much energy.

And that makes me sad, because he won’t stay this little forever. One day he won’t want Mum to join in anymore. He’ll be off playing with his friends, and I won’t be invited.

So I do what I can while I can.

It will take another month for the fascia in my abdomen to fully heal from surgery before I can start real strength training again and move without so many restrictions.

I can’t wait.

Because I’m still undergoing active treatment, I can’t take many herbal remedies or supplements. At the moment my daily routine is fairly simple: magnesium morning and evening, vitamin D with K2, fish oil, and two liver-support supplements. Everything else comes from food.

I’m trying to get enough protein, calcium, and the basics covered.

Since treatment is still ongoing, hormone replacement therapy isn’t even a discussion yet. I’ve read that it may not be recommended later either, especially once I move onto maintenance treatment, because some cancers can be influenced by hormones, including estrogen.

What worries me most is that entering menopause this early increases the risk of osteoporosis and cardiovascular disease. Estrogen is one of the strongest protective factors we have against both. Of course, exercise, nutrition, and supplements can help, but they’re supporting players, not the main character.

We’ll see what my doctors say once chemotherapy is over.

The interesting thing is that cancer itself doesn’t trouble me much anymore.

For now, the darkest thoughts are behind me.

I’ve already processed the things that needed processing. I’ve found what helps me cope. I’ve made the plans that can be made. I know the statistics. I’ve come to terms with most of it.

These days, it’s not cancer that occupies my mind.

It’s everything that comes after.