"Chemo Brain."

I'm not sure any part of this process has been NOT frustrating, but "chemo brain" has been one of the worst, from a professional perspective. 

"Chemo brain is a common term used by cancer survivors to describe thinking and memory problems that can occur during and after cancer treatment. Chemo brain can also be called chemo fog, cancer-related cognitive impairment or cognitive dysfunction." (https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/chemo-brain/symptoms-causes/syc-20351060)

I had been warned about it prior to starting chemo, but I don't think I was prepared.  One time, someone asked me for my address, and I forgot it mid house-number.  One time I was on the phone with the admin of our pro bono committee - someone I have seen and met with multiple times - and forgot that I had seen her in Dallas for our leadership offsite a few weeks ago.  "You looked right at me and waved!" she said.  It strikes when I'm on conference calls - which is every work day - and I will lose the word I need, mid-sentence.  I am a legal specialist, and I support the enterprise, even while I am heavily working from home at the moment.  So I will be on the phone with a number of people, all quietly listening for the message I am trying to deliver, while I am paused, mumbling, and struggling to remember my line of thought.  I catch myself saying "what is the word I'm looking for?" or repeating certain buzz words that I've already said.  It is mortifying.  I have to read emails five times, and will still catch misspelled words (which is even more mortifying).

It isn't just in my words, though.  It is impacting my organization and ability to focus.  I may have mentioned before that I'm more-than-slightly Type A.  When I am tasked with something, I double and triple check the boxes before I press send.  Recently, I thought I had checked all of the boxes for something, and found that it took multiple follow up emails to send the complete set of deliverables.  I apologized for seeming more disorganized than usual.  The response was that I and my co-chair were the only ones that had actually met the deadline, despite sending items in multiple parts, and despite being asked for one we missed.

But it's hard.

Allowing myself to be imperfect is something I have struggled with my entire life, and it is something that I have seemingly passed to my son.  I am the type to sit and think on my answer, and then rehearse it in my head a dozen times before I raise my hand to say it out loud (this is why I'm not a litigator).  By the time I get the comfort that my answer is right, someone else has already answered (rightly or wrongly), and the conversation has moved on.  But the bottom line is that I don't want to try things unless I know that I can do them well.  This is the same trait I see and struggle with in James. He's frighteningly smart, and frighteningly perfectionist.  The teacher will ask him why he chose a certain color for his picture, and he will shrug and clam up, like there is a "right" answer and he doesn't know it.

I see and appreciate the opposite in my daughter.  She isn't afraid to try anything.  She will try something her brother did, not do it the same way, and laugh at herself.  She's Risk Friendly to our Risk Averse.  She's Carefree to our Self-Conscious.  

I'm afraid the effects of chemo will be long lasting, both physically and mentally.  And I certainly hope this side-effect passes quickly.  But in the meantime, I am working on giving myself grace.  I am giving myself affirmations, like the fact that you are working at all through this is remarkable.  You are qualified.  You are capable.  You are managing to run a legal department committee and actively participate in another one, while being assaulted with poison.

But I'm a work in progress.  I have been openly excusing my stumbling by calling it chemo brain.  I am taking my Omega 3's just in case.  And I am trying to take cues from my fearless daughter and show my son that it is okay to make mistakes.  Wish me luck and grace.

Real time pic of the Carefree one.