ejourneys's blog

The first time I walked into the chemo bay on May 8 -- not just to the reception area, but to the lounges themselves to take a seat, I was more than a little nervous. My chemo port was still fresh (and still sore) from having been surgically implanted two days before. I had read up on what to bring in my "chemo bag" here and here, and I had come loaded for bear.

Monday was my day to get groceries in preparation for chemo later this week. By the time I got to the store it was near closing time, due to some unforeseen delays.

First, I had slept in, which is a good thing.

Then, my scalp started feeling tender in the early afternoon. I gave it a gentle rub and watched strands of hair float down to my lap. A bit more rubbing and a small clump dislodged.

Aha!

Five days until I begin Chemo Cycle 2.

A mental alarm bell went off this past Thursday. First, it was time to call and reorder my anti-nausea meds, which are due to be delivered before my next infusion.

A friend called me on Sunday to see how I was doing.  He knows someone who is also on chemo and who has been having a much tougher time of it.

I brought him up to speed.

Then I told him that I look at all this as an adventure.  It's not one that I would have chosen, but it's an adventure nonetheless. 

He got that.

In an earlier phone conversation prior to starting chemo, I had said, "This is going to sound weird, but I'm actually having some fun with this."

Somnolescence (copied from blog entry dated May 12, 2014)

We've had a very quiet weekend.

In addition to overnight sleep, I clocked two 4-hour naps on Saturday and two 2-hour naps on Sunday, plus another 90 minutes of bed time due to some digestive challenges. I'll just say I'm very thankful that I had picked up organic ginger tea prior to chemo, and that M had reminded me of it.

Chemo, Day One (copied from blog entry dated May 8, 2014)

I had my first chemo infusion earlier today. Was able to drive home, though M was prepared to drive if I couldn't. I became slightly headachey during the infusion and for a couple of hours thereafter, but that faded without added meds. Stomach feels a little off, but no real nausea (lots of burping). Bowels are in will-they-or-won't-they mode. (Says M, who has MS, "Welcome to the club.") Drank 12 cups of water yesterday and have surpassed that today. My water bottle is my constant companion.

T Minus 4 Days to Chemo (copied from blog entry dated May 4, 2014)

Did a bit of yard work -- perhaps the last yard work I'll do for a while (whatever that will mean).

My list of phone calls to make for tomorrow includes:

1. The pharmacy for the anti-nausea meds, to get their tracking number and reconfirm that the meds will be sent to the cancer center directly rather than to my home, since I am having surgery on the day of delivery.

The Fine Art of Negotiation (copied from blog entry dated May 3, 2014)

Also posted on Facebook:

Preparations (copied from blog entry dated April 29, 2014)

I still don't know exactly when chemo will start. I only know that it will, and likely soon.

I had a MUGA scan on Monday and will likely get the results when I see the oncologist on Thursday. We expect my heart to be fine. (Then again, the surgeon and I had expected my recurrence score to be low rather than intermediate, which is why I'm getting chemo. You never know.)

Day After Surgery (copied from a blog post dated March 26, 2014)

I posted this as my Facebook status earlier today: