Tuesday, January 21, 2014

"Four down, eight to go."

Hoping that treatments would become more tolerable, I'm deeply saddened to announce that my last treatment was a suck-fest. So many things that could've gone right, didn't. I received a blood transfusion ... that I didn't need. My 5FU hates me so badly, this hate manifested in my hands, feet, and mouth. (I will have my 5FU dose reduced during the next treatment. If I don't, it might kill me.) During the 46 hours with Merle, I threw up a lot, more so than normal. My fingernails look like I'm a chain-smoker. And my hair is still thinning. It's everywhere, quite literally everywhere, except where I'd like it to be.
But I promised myself I wasn't going to do a play-by-play for this mistake-ridden treatment. Instead, I'm going to mention the brighter points of #4. I seem to have recovered quicker than I ever have before. I'm learning to stay on top of my pain and my digestive tract. I'm learning how to pace myself so that I'm not napping from 2 to 8 pm every day. These things are very good.
My emotions seem to be evening out a little, too. I get down sometimes, very very down, but I'm quick to bounce back and remember all the good things I've got going for me.
I've got my mom, my rock, my constant through treatment and recovery that keeps me focused on "May 9th" and remission. My mom reminds me that I will go into remission someday. This has been huge for me. She is so sweet. She has very little hands. When I was getting my IV for the blood transfusion, she wrapped both her hands around mine. The were soft and warm and in my focus on them, I didn't notice the needle stick. I have to mention my "poppa" (stepdad), too. He has been so good to me, driving me around, making sure I get to my treatments in bad weather, picking up food and treats ... the list goes on and on. But the most important thing he does for me is that he loves my mom. He supports her and cares for her, which is why she is able to focus on me so much right now.
I've got my husband, John. Not one time, not even in his most tired, frustrated moments has he been short or frustrated with me. Oh I'm sure he feels it inside, but he hasn't shown it, not one time. He's become both father and mother at times over the past few months, and our family has greatly benefited from his fortitude and ability to get things done. He rubs my hands and feet at night. He gets me ice packs at 2:45 am without complaint. I know for a fact that my world would crumble into chemo-hell if I didn't have my husband, my glue, holding everything together.
My kids, both teenagers, have been an unbelievable source of comfort and cheer for me. My son is willing and eager to help me. He wants me to be comfortable and I can tell it bothers him when I'm sick. He's funny. He makes me laugh daily and he's one of my very best friends. My daughter is one of the best distractions in my life right now. Her ability to mentally remove me from my "cancersumption" is amazing. She talks and talks, not about cancer or chemo, but about trips we've taken, things we've done, trips we want to take, and things we want to do. Without the love and support of my children, this adventure would suck a thousand times more for sure.
I've got wonderful siblings, extended family members and close friends that stop by to check on me, drop treats off at my front door, send me messages of encouragement, and extend genuine sentiments of hope and love. My beautiful sister-in-law brings my family dinner every Tuesday night. (My family looks forward to Tuesdays because of the food. I look forward to seeing my sis-in-law and handsome toddling nephew.) My close friends and bff text and call daily. I can't imagine navigating "CancerLand" without my incredible support system of family and friends. I know my treatment would greatly suffer without it. The encouragement I get from others has really made an huge, positive impact on my attitude while in chemotherapy.
Now for some photos:
This is what I see when I look around me during treatment. Don't be jealous of the view ... I know it's truly awe-inspiring.
Poisons ... lots of them. Yummy.

Here comes the blood.

"Vampires are stupid." ~Creed Alexander

5FU Hand-Mouth Syndrome. Good times.

Fluids, chemo's "bully".

Me and my favorite blanket at the end of #4.

Carry on,
~K



No comments:

Post a Comment