"Add Engaging but Inspirational Title Here"
So ... I am officially back from a slight hiatus, paired with a little more nausea, a lot less hair, but the same amount of fight (or so I like to convince myself).
I am currently on the tail end of week 4 of chemo (or round 2, week 1 - however you like to look at it). The first week of each round starts with a lovely cocktail of three intense chemo meds, although I desperately wish that that was not the only cocktail that I started each round with. The first week (week 1 of 3) is undoubtedly the absolute worst. There is no sugar coating it. I have constant nausea, all over body aches, chemo brain, dizziness, weakness, hair loss, all over acne, ear ringing, mouth sores, dying taste buds ... you name it, I've got it. They actually gave me a "get to know your chemo side effects" type of pamphlet (sucks for the person who had the job to create that lovely piece of paper) and I literally could go down and check each one. If this was a game, I would be winning I guess. The second and third weeks though are generally "better". I feel less shitty physically (for lack of a better word), and I have a little more energy, it's just more of an emotional rollercoaster than anything.
Speaking of emotional rollercoaster ... the hair loss has been THE WORST. There is something truly traumatic about watching your hair slowly fall out over 3 weeks that really just drives someone crazy. It started out with little pieces at first, moved to giant clumps, and is now in the stage of "how-is-there-even-still-hair-left-to-fall-off?" I've had my semi-high points, where I repeat to myself mantra's like "it's just temporary" or "man, getting ready for work sure will be fast from now on", but I have also had my low points. I have cried at school when I reached to push my hair behind my ear and a kid noticed it coming out into my hands. I had a complete meltdown a few days ago when I put my wig on and looked at myself in the mirror, because for the first time I felt like I "looked" like a cancer patient. I have left piles of hair on the floor in our bathroom unable to throw them away, only to force my poor husband to do it for me. Low points people; these are the low points. But what are the highs without the lows? Such is life right? I am going fully bald (God, I hate that word) on Wednesday and I'd like to say that it's going to be some badass experience (much like when Natalie Portman shaves her head in V for Vendetta) but I can almost guarantee that there will be tears. Damn, if only there were cocktails served at haircuts.
Oh and then there is the acne. BECAUSE IF THE OTHER SIDE EFFECTS WERE NOT ENOUGH, WHY NOT CAUSE THE POOR PATIENT TO HAVE A BODY AND FACE COVERED IN AN ACNE LIKE RASH?? This one really pisses me off (if you can't tell). I literally have avoided myself in the mirror it is so bad. I have avoided eye contact with people, or just going into public all together. I have cried almost every morning getting ready for work. And I say this - in no way - for pity, or "I'm sorry's" or any of that, but only to re-iterrate that this thing SUCKS. It sucks and I feel for every person that has ever been effected directly or indirectly by this stupid disease.
See, the crazy thing about Cancer treatment (the part that I have such a hard part wrapping my brain around) is that in order to kill this horrible thing inside of me, I literally have to pump myself full of other equally horrible things. The chemo and its side effects are so insanely miserable that I literally forget that I have cancer most of the time. I'm too worried and anxious and just all around feeling awful that I forget. that. I. have. Cancer. Who does that? Forgets they have cancer? I mean, before I was officially diagnosed, I wasn't really feeling that bad. I had some headaches and some earaches, but I was going through life. I had cancer, but I didn't know it, and I felt "fine". But now, now that my cancer is finally being treated, I feel anything but "fine". It's amazing what it takes to "cure" something isn't it?
Side note: I feel like I have said the word cancer a lot and it is starting to get irritating to type. I had a friend once tell me that in her family, instead of using the "C" word, they call it Obama. As in "I am so sorry that you are sick, Obama sucks so bad". LOL at that idea. With election day nearing though, I will stray away from that. Any suggestions on new names for the "C" word are welcomed though. End of side note.
Anyways ... this week on Tuesday I will go in for treatment number 5. I have officially gotten into the swing of things at my chemo treatment center. We know exactly who to sit by and exactly who NOT to sit by, which nurses tell the best jokes, and which chairs are closest to the nearest outlets (it's the important things in life right?) I am ready to go, and ready to be done with the week 1 symptoms, and move on to what follows in the next two weeks. Which, basically, will look something like this:
1) Slight pity-parties held by yours truly
2) Major pep talks being given from my
parents/husband/friends/family
3) Doing the best that I can to make it through the work week without taking a nap in the middle of one of my math lessons
4) Relying heavily on the fact that every choice, every treatment, every decision, every ... thing is part of my God's plan for me
5) bottles of wine being poured through my feeding tube
You go ahead and choose which of those 5 is a lie.
I will try my hardest to blog again soon, mostly because despite the hard times we have gone through lately, God has done some pretty exciting things in Zach and I's lives and I am excited to share these things with everyone. But that is another story, another blog, another time.
As always - thanks for caring about my rambling.
XXOO, L