I mean to write every day. I really do, but the chemo fog inhibits me and I end up doing pretty much nothing. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Chuck reminds me that my only responsibilities now are to rest, hydrate, eat, take my meds and rest some more. It sounds painfully boring but is actually about all I can manage most of the time. Even that seems more of a challenge than I want to deal with.
Where’s the charming nursemaid with the tea tray when you need her?? She must be on strike or something. Maybe it was the lack of wages and benefits? It's not fun being queen without staff!
It’s been nine days since my first chemo. That means about ten days until my hair starts to fall out. I made an appointment for a buzz cut today. My personal hair expert, Glenda, is not thrilled about doing it but will give me the cut and throw in a scalp treatment. I know I'm right on schedule because my scalp is starting to hurt and the mouth sores are taking their toll. Can hair fallout be far behind? Chuck will join me and get buzzed for moral support.
Yesterday was the first day I was up and fully dressed for part of the day. Quite an accomplishment! The amazing thing is that I haven’t barfed once. I’ve felt nauseous and even gagged a couple of times but no epic barfing. That makes me think I should be feeling better than I am. I’m sure part of the barf control is due to a new med called Emends which I took for the first three days. After that I went on an Ativan regimen with Compazine for back up. The Ativan works and has the additional benefit of reducing anxiety.
I still don’t understand my extreme fatigue. I feel like I’ve been through a wringer. That remind me of when my sister Penny got her arm caught in the wringer on our washing machine. “Oh, yeah,” she’s thinking, “Now you have sympathy for me!” Anyway, it may be the chemo or it may be the drugs but in any case, I’m tired to the bone. I feel like I'm just coming out from under heavy sedation. That's closer than any other way I can describe it.
I'll have my next chemo on June 18 and hope that by then I’ll be feeling stronger. At least I won’t go into the chemo suite thinking that I’ll be throwing up. Speaking of the "suite", it’s not the most pleasant environment, but since I’m only there for three to four hours, it’s tolerable. Sure wish it was more like the lovely chemo spas you see in films and slick magazines. It’s about as functional as a typical medical ward with no privacy and not much TLC. I have to rely on Chuck for that. Fortunately, they have a pantry and refrigerator stocked with juices and snacks and he is willing to go back and forth delivering to me and anyone else who will let him. The woman on one side of me had no one with her and was grateful for the attention and assistance.
Not much else to report for now. I'm still on light fare for the most part. Jello, popsicles, pudding, oatmeal, applesauce, soups, mac and cheese. Kathy says I’m eating my grandson’s diet. Great, I have a seven year old for a dietitian. At least he’s a cute one.
I have one other good thing to mention about today. I had a good dose of excellent “friend therapy”. I enjoyed a nice a long phone chat with my good friend Donna from Redding who always manages to make me laugh. Then my Eugene buddies Dale and Carol came out and distracted me with a nice visit that left me tired and ever so grateful for friends.
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