Chemo Treatment #9

More than halfway done... Woot!

Yesterday was a pretty good chemo day. My grody crack whore bruise was actually mostly healed but I was leery of getting poked again. Thankfully, it was the gentle lady. She started to wrap the tourniquet around my right arm and I asked if she could please use my left. I showed her my fading bruise and mentioned that it was still that bad after a week. She said "Wow, were you in the hospital?" I told her, "No, this is actually from my visit here last week." She seemed surprised but explained that sometimes, no matter what they do, it'll bruise if platelets are low. She proceeded to gently draw my blood. As she finished, she told me that it was very important to keep pressure on the site after the blood was drawn, which would also help keep it from bruising. Considering that this was the first time ever that I had bruised like that, I'm still convinced that the other tech just botched it that time. Not so surprisingly, no bruise this time.

I headed upstairs and after a bit of a wait, I got back to room 8. I princess waved my way down the hall. While I was being a clown, I didn't notice that the nurse that lead me back had the blanket warmer door open to grab a blanket for me and I came within inches of smacking nose first into it. That could have been pretty.

I got settled and had yet another new nurse. This one was named Tracy and she was a firecracker - complete with big, pink fluffy earrings with googly eyes. After getting me all hooked up she said, "You're not even going to comment on these earrings?" Nothing like putting me on the spot, lady... I said, "Well, they ARE pink, so I figured you were just being supportive." She laughed and told me that her son (who's in 4th grade) had made them at school and asked her to wear them. She happily obliged. She said that a friend of her son's said to him "Your mom is so cool!" Ha... Love it.

Because Hannah had a half day, Matt picked her up and she visited with me for the last 30 minutes or so. By the time she got there, Uncle Benny had worked his magic and I was pretty dazed and slurry. I apologized for it being rather boring and she said, "It doesn't matter. I get to hang out with you." That child is so full of bullshit that her eyes are brown, but she's sweet and kind and I love her to pieces.

I've had some new side effects. My legs have felt sort of jelly-like. I haven't fallen but I feel like I've lost some coordination. (As though I really had any, mind you...) Tracy told me that it's from chemo. Of course it is, dammit. The neuropathy in my hands occurs more regularly, but it's still not anything that is unmanageable so far, which is good. As a whole, my senses feel dulled - particularly my sense of taste. Very little tastes normal now. My face is very dry and feels like it's sunburnt most of the time. It doesn't hurt - but it's tight and puffy. Of course, the latter is from my ever-present chunky monkiness courtesy of the steroid. Ugh...

My head funk hasn't gone away but it's not worse, which is good. I've taken to wearing wigs at work primarily because the "oh, poor you" look from people got old. My head isn't "nice" enough for me to feel comfortable enough to go commando there still and the scarves are a flat-out pain in the ass. They'll be better when the weather is cooler. Even with the wig, the second I drive away, it's off and I have that great "ahhhhh" moment.

My brain continues to succumb to a chemo dumb-down. I can't remember things and have trouble concentrating. I find myself repeating things because I can't recall if I've already said it. I will admit that I'm terrified of being like my mom, who suffered back-to-back strokes last year and is severely brain damaged now. Usually, chemo brain is reversible. Sometimes; however, it's not. It's yet another reason I have this blog. I may not remember all that I want to.

All in all, none of my side effects are totally incapacitating right now. The fatigue seems to have leveled out a bit but I've also been moving much more slowly. I'm trying to listen to my body more and rest before I hit the wall. Sometimes, it doesn't work, but it's been better. I may bitch and moan here and there but I'm also extremely thankful that things are going well.

Tomorrow night, my goal is to get to see Nickelback. Yeah, haters gonna hate. They're cheesy and raunchy but so am I. They're a rockin' good time and even though I've already seen them 6 or so times, I can't wait. I want to feel normal. No, I won't be drinking or singing and dancing until I feel sweat pooling under my boobs and down my back into my buttcrack (yes, really) but I will have fun. Wait. I'll still be singing. Singing at the top of my lungs with my PIC in tow.

As always, I'm thankful and love you and you and even you. Xoxo...