Operating in a Chemo Fog


© irene waters 2020

As if life doesn’t become hard enough with the effects of chemo it also makes functioning difficult, as though you are operating in a fog.  I have since found out this is how pregnant women feel but having never been in that condition I didn’t know.

When you are undergoing chemo and have the weight of the sentence you have been given weighing down on your mind it is difficult to find much to laugh about. The chemo fog put an end to that difficulty when it came to our sitting room furniture.

My mother had entered a nursing home ( now called Aged Care Residential Facility) and I was left with the task of packing up her belongings, moving some to her new abode , selling others, keeping some and storing others. When it came to her electric lift chair I suggested to Roger that we keep it for him. His hip was giving him so much gip that he struggled to get in and out of chairs. “It’s small and could fit beside mine.” I suggested.

For sale

© irene waters 2020

He agreed but I could tell he had some reservations. We got it home and he says “the principle is good but I hate tapestry.”

The next day he tells me “I’ve brought a chair from down south.” He showed me on the internet. He hadn’t looked at it but bought it sight unseen and paid on paypal.

“How are we going to get it?”

“I’ll organise a removalist.”

After no response from the seller re the address we were to send the removalist to I rang her up to question why? She hadn’t as yet been notified of our payment. Unusual, I thought and went on to Roger’s computer to see what had happened.  The woman had written her email address  …… com cheers. Roger had asked paypal to pay her .comcheers. I couldn’t help but laugh and laughter being infectious soon we were both doubled over in mirth. We quickly rectified the mistake and a couple of days later the chair arrived.


It looked nice. I sat and suddenly my legs were above my head as it tried to hurl me into a back summersault pike. Roger declared he could repair it and he did try. It is still sitting in our loungeroom as the urgency wore off. I arrived home a day or two later to be told I’ve brought two recliner chairs. “What do we want two chairs for?”  The seller wanted them both to go together. I could understand this. Green velour wouldn’t have too many takers. This time he HAD gone and looked at them and decided they were perfect for the job and paid on the spot. ‘You can swap your chair for one,” he told me.

“But I don’t want to. I love my chair.”

“We’ll sell it then.” At least this time they were located in our town and again he said he would organise a removalist to get them. Before we could organise a removalist he purchased yet another electric lift chair. Brown this time. “The removalist can pick it up at the same time,”  Roger said.

I think I may have even stamped my foot at this point. “No more. Don’t buy one more chair.”

“It’s the chemo fog” he said.

“It’ll be more than chemo fog you’ve got if you look at Gumtree again.”  The removalist picked the three of them up.


© irene waters 2020

At home

© irene waters 2020

With now 5 electric or recliner armchairs plus the already large amount of furniture we had it looked like we were a living room shop. What do you do? You can’t be cranky. There is nothing for it but to laugh and let’s face it – Readers Digest has been telling us for years that laughter is the best medicine and by jove – they are right.

About Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
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23 Responses to Operating in a Chemo Fog

  1. That is funny. I wonder how you are still getting into your living room. So which of the chairs will actually be staying? Or will you keep them all and after visiting restrictions are ended you could form a group for people with dodgy hips.

    Liked by 1 person

    • We initially had to negotiate the furniture. One green one lived in the garage. Car lived in driveway. Eventually sold car. Sold tapestry one quickly. Last green one went last week. Brown one also sold as roger regained mobility when he had his hip done. White one we are stuck with as can’t be sat in. One day something will happen.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. JT Twissel says:

    Looks comfy – hope it helps!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. lifelessons says:

    Well you have me laughing, Irene. I’ve lost track. Which did you decide to keep and why no photos of the green velour chairs???
    Dangers of the internet.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. The dog likes it…


  5. Your post did make me smile, Irene. It reminds me of the chairs I bought when I was breast feeding. I don’t know why I thought a new or different chair would help with my sleeplessness and the discomfort I initially experienced.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. calmkate says:

    Hilarious but sad Irene … glad you got him to stop! And that you’ve managed to sell them 🙂

    Sounds like the white one is fit for the dump … how is hubbies treatment going?

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Oh my goodness. I think you should buy a 72 inch TV screen, set up all the chairs in front of it, invite your friends, and have a favorite film fest.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Charli Mills says:

    Ha, ha! You can’t have too many tries to find the perfect sit.I’ma glad you both found your laughter. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  9. uniboobie says:

    Oh bless, I have survived the 1st lot of chemo fog. I was very entertaining to my 18 year old twin daughters. Let me know when you’re playing musical chairs next, I’ll join but can’t promise I’ll remember what I’m there for. Take care x

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Pingback: Passion and Creativity | Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist)

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