Round 3, Day 3

Whew. Been a little emotional lately, this one. Another side effect is feeling sorry for oneself. Or maybe it's the hormone shots they give me. Either way, apologies.


First, great news! I met with my cardiologist on Monday for a two-month follow-up echocardiogram. Verdict: "Cured." (Can doctors even say that?) My device is still in place, my heart has likely completely healed over it, and the right side of my heart is now a normal size. Hooray!! Now, if I can only get two more of my doctors to say the same . . .


Rant - why is it so much easier to fix my heart than get rid of a few pesky cancer cells? Put a plug in a straw in a vein and - *pop* - done. Now that's progress. Why are we still using the same treatment, and sometimes the same drugs, that we used in the 1970s? Yes, yes, I know - because it works. But really, chemo feels quite medieval in view of my heart treatment. Chemo works by destroying rapidly dividing cells (and probably a bunch of other stuff). Cancer cells rapidly divide, but so do hair cells, bone marrow cells, and the cells of pretty much anything with a mucous membrane, including the whole digestive system. (Hence my advice for future chemo-facers: go to CVS and get one of everything.) Sigh. I feel over-treated. Targeted therapy, people. Let's get there.


Anyway, altogether now: HALFWAY!

This, now, we hope, is the highest point on the treatment rollercoaster. From here, just bumps until the end. My future Day 3s, and 4s, and so on, might be worse, but I feel like an end is in sight. Curiously, I don't feel good, but I don't feel as bad as I did on the last two Day 3s. I think. The joy of having treatments three weeks apart is that you have a chance to recover and feel kinda normal before you get hit again. Three weeks is also long enough to forget exactly what it's like. It's a good thing.

So it's possible that I'm getting used to this, or it might be the acupuncture treatments I've been trying this round, or it might all be in my head, but it doesn't matter. I've got some normal side effects (no appetite, some nausea, general fatigue), but I think it's easier this time. I've been somewhat mobile, though not leave-the-house-and-do-stuff mobile (crazy talk!), at least enough to return emails, do some work and crosswords, and write two (!) posts. Super goal for today: exercise.

You all know this: we're adapters. I've got a schedule now.

Day 1: get treatment, eat, sleep. (Last time I had an allergic reaction to poison number one - shocking!, I know - and they treated me with a steroid. That little shot prompted me to bust out 10 client letters. This time, same reaction, but I got benadryl too, which put me promptly to sleep. No work done this time.)
Days 2-4: sleep, drink gatorade, wait for day 5.
Day 5: return to work.
Days 7-15: start to eat regular food, avoid all sick people (because my white blood cell count is low).
Days 16-21: feel pretty good, eat like a monster.

I've mentioned before, probably, that my doctor has induced menopause to protect my ovaries for future baby-producing options. Menopause is not cool. Hot flashes. Mood swings. Touch-o-crazy. I'm sure that's chemo-driven too. Anyway, week-1 starvation, chemo, or menopause, whatever-it-is makes me hungry like the wolf during week 3. Sean and I call it "chemo baby", as in "Chemo baby wants a milkshake!" and "Chemo baby wants your french fries!" It's best in a monster-like voice. Isn't this how all newlyweds entertain themselves?


Hope you all have a great Memorial Day!