Four Down, Two to Go.

I've been delaying this post, mostly because I wasn't sure how my tone would come across. I had my fourth treatment last Thursday and it went very well. I don't mind sitting in the room, hooked up to the IV pole, listening to the chatter, watching the people. It's interesting and I usually get something done as I sit. I look at my treatment time as time to sit in one spot and accomplish something that needs to be done, sometimes work, sometimes reading, sometimes nothing. The treatment time itself is good.

To a certain degree, I feel like the kid at the edge of the pool that everyone is swimming in - and I'm only dangling my toe in to test the water. I hear horror stories about chemo treatments from so many people - they can be as often as daily, run for as long as years. I haven't spoken with anyone who has my same set of drugs, so I am sure there are many chemo cocktails out there that have many horrible side effects. When I sit in my chair with my blanket and laptop and look around the room at the random people that have illnesses that require they be there, I remind myself how lucky I am so far that I'll hopefully walk away from that room in a year and not have to go back. I think of how lucky I am that I am complaining about not losing a pound when the lady two chairs over is sleeping through her treatment and I think how if the blanket wasn't wrapped around her, she would blow away like a feather. I think about how lucky I am that even though I get so tired and sick to my stomach, I don't have to be hospitalized because I can't stop throwing up or am almost too weak to move around my house. This is the toe that I am dipping into this pool of possibilities. I feel very lucky.

I think that's why I had such a hard time putting this post together, because I feel terrible complaining about things that really aren't that bad. In the grand scheme of things, I'm worn out and tired and I'm pumping poison through my body and killing off much of the stuff that allows me to function like a human being. The chemo, no matter how weak it may be compared to others' cocktails, none the less leaves me with side effects. A friend of mine read my blog recently and mentioned that I put in all the Pollyanna and leave out all the Stephen King. He's right to a certain degree. I just need to figure out how to do Stephen King in the voice of David Sedaris... Until I get that tone right, please know that I feel positive, no matter how crabby I come across.

Other than the first treatment where I ended up in the hospital, this one may be my least favorite. I was tired after the holidays and had developed a more sensitive stomach than before, so I asked my doctor if that was due to the holidays and not resting/eating properly. He said that no, the treatments are cumulative and the fatigue and nausea will continue to get worse as we go. Great. But, I guess this is chemotherapy, not aromatherapy, so I should plan accordingly, right?

This time the fatigue set in a bit sooner than I had hoped - by Saturday night I was pretty much done for. Last time I had made it through Sunday and was hoping for the same. Sunday was spent mostly in bed watching tv and napping. I am frustrated with how exhausted I get and how fast. Normal walking around my house or up and down the stairs wipes me out sometimes and can leave me lightheaded. This is not normal for me at all and it frustrates me. I'm all for laying in bed for a lazy day once in a great while, but this is annoying.

Sleeping is not quite the right word either. I say that I sleep alot, which I do, but in the most bizarre patterns. I haven't slept for more than 4 hours in a row in the past week. I'm usually up walking around at 3 AM for some reason, then again at 5. Those two seem to be consistent. The smattering of other hours in there aren't as consistent and generally have to do with my body temperature gauge going wonky and either sweating or freezing. So I have dumped all my cotton pajamas onto the floor in the corner so I can dig through them easily to find dry clothes to crawl back into bed.

The nosebleeds are getting to be inconvenient. I had them all the time when I was a kid and landed in the ER at least once for them, so they aren't a completely foreign annoyance. However, I did enjoy the past 20 or so years of having very few of them. Now they are a regular visit on the side-effect train. On Tuesday, I had four, yes four, full out nosebleeds lasting about 10 minutes each. Boxes of Kleenex gave their lives in the battle. None were even provoked. In one case, I admit I bent down to pick up a sock, so I guess that may be considered my fault. Otherwise, I hadn't even so much as sniffled. Today, I've only had one. This is improvement.

Food tastes weird, mostly salty or the official "metallic" taste that I hear about. Water tastes terrible. It's funny how things taste when everything tastes different. Must try... chocolate (not very good)... bread (any kind so far- it works really well)... pizza (nope)... oranges (taste ok, but way too acidic for the stomach)... gummi bears (sweet, but only a few)... If it's a dry good in a bag or box in my house, chances are that I have tried it this week. If I can keep bland food in my stomach, I'm home free for a while. I also take a no-sick pill when I start to feel nauseous and they seem to work very well for me. My stomach never feels normal - it's just varying degrees of not right. It's worse in the morning when I haven't fed it food for a bit - then it's not sure if it wants to be sick or not. Sometimes it fades if I lay still until I feel like I can make a run for the no-sick medication. It's amazing what a simple bagel can do...

Generally, I am a pretty upbeat person. I love having a full schedule and working and going to school and spending time with friends doing things that I want to do. When I get tired and sick, I get kinda crabby and emotionally wiped out.

So Tuesday was that day for me. I think I finally hit my wall. I thought that I could work full time, work on my MBA full time, and go through chemo treatments - it's mind over matter, right? I finally realized that I can't physically or mentally put myself in that position - balls are getting dropped and I am wiped out. I had a minor freak out that night and cried for a long time, which is also exhausting.

So, to my great disappointment, I postponed my work with my cohort at Hamline and will postpone my MBA for a bit until I can get through the treatment phase of this and start back into regular health. I know that dropping that course is not a personal failure, but it sure felt like one at the time. Now I have a great sense of relief that all my excess energy can be channeled into my work, which is where I need to be focusing my time right now. I will really miss seeing my friends in class - they are all awesome people and we have a great group.

Last week, I also met with my plastic surgeon and I am done with fills until surgery - but that's going to be my next post...

Have a great day!