Five down, seven to go...
Chemo went pretty easily yesterday. I think we've finally found the right cocktail of drugs for most of the symptoms. It's so weird - I have a BOWL full of prescriptions in the bathroom, this for the girl who usually is reluctant to take ibuprofen.
I get tagamet (reduce stomach acid), kytril (antinausea), benadryl (prevent allergic reactions), dexamethazone (a steriod to help reduce inflammation from the taxol) ativan -a benzodiazipine- (to make me all happy/stupid - also antinausea, also helps reduce the jitters from the aformentioned steroid), tylenol, and then finally taxol - dripped in over 2 1/2 hours. The whole schmear takes 5 to 6 hours, depending on how easy it is to access the port, and other stuff. I usually sleep after the first hour or so, since the ativan makes it so I can barely walk, I'm so spacey. Just as well.
Then I have oral versions of must of these at home, also psyllium husks and lovely things like that, since it messes with my digestive system at the other end, as well. wertperch is making me fresh juice three times a day, which really helps - gets a little fiber into me, and because it's juice the nutrients are much easier to digest. I've lost somewhere around 6-7 pounds so far just from the chemo - there's days where I eat normally, and days where I want to eat nothing whatsoever. This is usually caused by reflux, where even drinking water give me painful heartburn. I don't remember this side effect from the last time around, but I wonder if it's also contributed to by the tumors along my trachea. Extra bumps right at the lower end of the esophagus.
This quite possibly is TMI.
So last night the imp was off with friends, and wertperch and I get into the hot tub - what bliss! - and I know, so seventies. I'm going to get wertperch a gold coke spoon to dangle in his chest hair for christmas. But I'm telling you, it is helping me get through chemo more than anything else. (The hot tub, not cocaine...) Then he went off for a beer with our friend Tom. I was sorry to see him go, and yet glad. Last time around I think he didn't take good enough care of himself through the whole treatment, and by the end was horribly run down and exhausted, and suffering from compassion burnout. I think he forgets that if he doesn't take care of himself, ultimately he won't be able to take care of me.
I puttered around the house, not accomplishing anything much, but I've got an art project in my head, and I can't work on it until I clear the decks a little bit. I even (bravely) drank a small glass of champagne. That's the trade off for acid reflux, if I eat other stuff that's really soothing, I can enjoy a glass of wine every once in a while. Probably on top of all the other junk, I had quite a buzz on, but it felt like a HUGE treat.
But back to the puttering. We have a formal living room that we hardly use (so it turns into a big ugly storage space for junk) but I'm slowly trying to turn it into an art studio. Next thing is a big ikea table, right in the middle of the room. yay! I've been doing small collages, and I want to experiment with bigger ones, and more mixed media - both collage and painting. I'm sure the first few will be hideous, but I don't care. If anything is even interesting, I'll post a copy.
I have this fantasy of doing enough work to have a group show at our local art center, all on the subject of cancer and body image. I've got at least three things in mind, but they all would have to work to be the basis of a show. Both wall art and sculpture. Have you seen any of my tit bits? (Knitted...)
A thousand thank yous for all of you who pitched in for the hot tub - I'm sometimes in it three or four times a day, and off and on in the middle of the night, when the insomnia gets really bad. Lately it's been foggy here, and we have these great mysterious nights - very Jane Eyre.
That's it for now.
Love to all,