Throughout the years I have always heard the worst things about chemotherapy. So finding out I was going to be on one of the strongest doses was a tad overwhelming. I mean yes, it was going to attack and hopefully kill the bad cells, but at the same time kill the good ones too. I was put on the schedule of coming biweekly, with one of my drugs being hooked up in a bottle that I would bring home and that would flow into me for another 46 hours.
During and after leaving I was thinking “What was all the hype about?” Yes I am a little tired but honestly if this is the worst of it, this shit is a breeze.
This was the start of my hair loss. Even with that I only had two bad days where I felt drained. I did have one morning feeling nauseous, but as soon as I put something in my stomach it seemed to go away.
This day so far was definitely the worst. I was sweating like a fool during and after leaving the hospital. I was also so exhausted I felt like I walked home from Toronto. That night upstairs on the couch all I wanted was cold pineapple. Too exhausted to even get up to pee (honestly in my head I would go back and forth with how long I could hold it.), I used my cell phone to call my house phone to ask someone to bring it up. My parents have been amazing, and my mom came upstairs laughing with the pineapple.
“Your Dad and I were laughing how you are really milking this cancer thing.”
Now before you get all judgy wudgy, I have been the WORST with the jokes. I constantly joke about my cancer. It helps to laugh about it instead of dwell. This night however I was extra vulnerable and they had no idea. I started crying.
“I’m not faking it though. I actually feel so sick.” I said with tears falling faster than Niagara Falls.
“Oh my goodness I am so sorry we were just joking! You know, how you do all the time!?”
“I control the jokes!!”
That was the last time they started a conversation with jokes. My poor parents lol. From that day I had another 2 days feeling like this, but still that was about it.
This was just yesterday. There was a lot of information thrown at me that day (which I will get to another time, in another post), but overall it was an easy chemo day. Even today I woke up feeling pretty good. That is how my mornings go now. I sit up and can pretty much instantly assess whether it will be a good or bad day. I did however find out before this treatment that my white blood counts are right at the minimum level. So as a lot of people on chemo have experienced, I am being placed on a self injecting drug for 8 days to help with my counts.
Overall my chemo days have become like Christmas morning to me. I look forward to every session and count the days leading up to it. Is it making me weaker, no question. However it is also attacking the little fucks that have put me in this state. For that, I love chemo :).