As my body was fighting off the pancreatitis, I was going to CT scans so they could make sure everything was going smoothly. Somehow from talking with one of the many people looking after me, it came up that the tumour on my ovary has grown a whole centimetre in the week I was there. I became scared. The longer my body is weak and not on chemo, the bigger this beast is going to get. It was at the level where it began causing me pain, and I was having trouble getting up and walking.
So when I let me palliative care nurse know that I think I would like to be discharged on Friday, she was concerned. She knew the pain I was in, she also knew I do not like pain meds and would not be taking any with me at home. Every day when she visited she raised her concerns with me but I was adamant I wanted to leave. The deciding factor was my conversation bedside with Dr. Jay. I said to him quite frankly, “I feel like I am going to be in pain for a while, so why not be in pain at home than in this bed.” He agreed. He let me know that the life I was given between surgeries when I felt “normal” was probably over and I would be heading into a different chapter with more pain and more drugs. Awesome, so get me out of this hospital.
I called up to my oncologist and asked him if I could start chemo on the following Wednesday since my liver stats were back to normal. He scheduled me in. Those five days at home leading up to chemo were terrible. I had a massive migraine, I still was barely eating and I was in pain. But I was hopeful the chemo would begin to shrink the one tumour causing most of my problems and that the pain would subside.
Just all around a bad decision. Chemo did nothing but set me back ten steps. My body was too weak to handle the drugs and I became more sick than I ever had been before. I would just sit on the couch, in the basement in the dark, staring blankly. Chris would have to pick up a water glass and put it to my mouth to try and get me to drink. I threw up everything that went in. In the night I would call out his name so he could help me up from the couch because the pain was becoming worse. When Monday came we called the oncology unit and the nurse told me to get right back in. They hooked me up with fluids and nausea meds through IV, and set me up with home-care so I could receive this at home as well. The following Wednesday I was right back at the hospital for another round of chemo. I was determined to fight through the sickness if it meant shrinking this tumour. Again, terrible decision. I was down more weight and my body just could not take it anymore. I couldn’t keep anything down. One bite of toast would come right back up seconds after it went down. I was becoming skin and bones. We made the decision to give me all of December off and restart chemo in January. I was told to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. They just wanted that weight back on. So that is what I did. We celebrated small victories of me having two bites of toast and not throwing it up.
Come January I had the idea to reduce my chemo drugs to the lowest they could go, and work my way up from there. My oncologist is amazing and will always try and appease me when he can, so we tried it. My first dose after being off for a month was only at 40% strength. I handled that well so two weeks later we bumped up to 55%, and then 65% after that. My scan in mid February would determine if any of this was working.
Ok I think I will stop there for now. Here are some more photos of me wasting away lol.