If I had to describe the feeling of Chemo Brain to someone who has never experienced it, I would use three words: Slow. Thick. Muddled.
It’s not just “forgetfulness.” It’s a fog that rolls in and sits heavy on your mind.
Before my diagnosis, I prided myself on having a steel trap for a memory. I was the “Memory Keeper” of the family—the one everyone leaned on to remember birthdays, appointments, and the tiny details that keep a household running. To go from that sharp clarity to struggling to hold onto a simple thought was a shock to my system.
I think people on the outside don’t quite understand the weight of it. They might think you’re exaggerating, or perhaps just being a bit careless or distracted. But we know the truth, and science backs us up: Cancer-Related Cognitive Impairment (CRCI) is real. You aren’t being careless, and you certainly aren’t imagining it. You are navigating a side effect that is just as valid as any physical symptom.
Looking back on my journey, I realized that surviving Chemo Brain wasn’t just about trying harder to remember; it was about building new systems and, more importantly, giving myself permission to let go.
Here is how I navigated the fog, and how you can too.
1. The “Write It Down” Rule (Your External Hard Drive)
The first lesson I learned? Stop relying solely on your memory. It is currently under construction, and that is okay.
I had to embrace the fact that if I didn’t write it down, it didn’t exist. I used a combination of tools to create a safety net:
- The Classic Agenda: I kept a physical agenda/weekly schedule for the big picture.
- Digital Backups: I leaned heavily on my phone’s calendar (Google Calendar is a lifesaver) and reminder apps.
Treat these tools as your “external hard drive.” It’s not a sign of weakness to need them; it’s a smart strategy to conserve your energy for healing.
2. The “Whatchamacallit” Method
One of the most frustrating parts of Chemo Brain is losing a common word in the middle of a sentence. It’s right there on the tip of your tongue, but the fog is too thick to find it.
My advice? Own it.
Instead of panicking or freezing up, I learned to just explain the item I was trying to name. If I couldn’t remember the word “kettle,” I’d say, “You know, the thing that boils water.”
And then? Laugh. Be honest with the person you are speaking with. Admit that the word is gone, have a good chuckle about the absurdity of it, and give yourself a break. Humor releases tension, and tension only makes the fog worse.
3. The Hardest Tool: Surrendering Control
This was the toughest hurdle for me. As the person who usually ran the show, stepping back felt impossible. But Chemo Brain forced my hand.
I had to allow others to help me with the kids’ schedules and the running of the house—tasks I would generally dominate. I had to suppress the urge to be in control of every detail.
If you have a support system, use them. The world will keep turning if you let someone else drive the carpool. If you are navigating this solo, give yourself permission to simplify everything—automate your bills, order groceries online, and let the non-essentials slide. You cannot do it all right now, and that is okay.
4. Nature, Rest & Fuel: Immediate Relief
Sometimes, the only way to clear the fog is to stop fighting it and start nurturing your brain.
- Mindful Rest is Non-Negotiable: Prioritize quality sleep like it’s your job. Create a calming bedtime routine to help recharge your mind.
- The Nature Fix: Do not underestimate the power of fresh air. For me, even a few minutes spending time in nature literally helped to lift the brain fog and provided a mental reset that no app could offer.
- Fuel Your Brain: I found that what I ate made a difference. Opt for nutrient-dense foods like avocados and berries. Juicing was a highly effective way for me to pack in essential nutrients quickly without having to cook a big meal.
5. Permission to Be Human
On the days when the fog is thickest, remember this: You are human.
Give yourself permission to be forgetful. Accept that you are not perfect and that you don’t need to remember everything for everyone.
Remind yourself, as I often did, that things will get better. The intensity of this fog will lift. You will have good days and bad days, and that is perfectly okay. Be gentle with yourself on the muddled days.
You are doing the heavy lifting of fighting cancer; you can be forgiven for forgetting where you put your keys.
Courageously yours,
Aurora
Because courage doesn’t always mean being strong, but admitting that at this moment you feel weak and that’s okay.