It was very easy for me to have a positive attitude going in--that's just me, and I have enough experience with this to know that the whole fighting-cancer-yet-again thing will be a distant memory soon enough. It was even easy to be excited when I discovered that these new fabulous chemo drugs were not going to leave me a nauseous, miserable mess with a mouthful of sores for a week every month. And unlike my past chemo treatments, my blood counts are normal or near normal in many cases. Unlike past chemo treatments that left me with dangerously low white blood cell counts, my white cells are in the normal range, even after seven chemo treatments.
I've been a lucky, lucky girl.
As my readers know, I have been counting down my treatments with a bottle of champagne each week with my Champagne Sister, Sonya. I was really looking forward to the half-way point: treatment number six of six. My sixth treatment was last Friday, so I invited some of my neighborhood gals over to join my Champagne Sister and me in some bubbly on Sunday...not a huge party, just a few fabulous gals who all live within a mile or two.
I went into treatment six feeling a little low, and I came out a hot mess. Perhaps it was the lousy weather that day? Regardless, I went up to my bedrooms, got into my pajamas, watched bad afternoon television, and cried on and off for several hours.
It's not as if I was feeling super sick or miserable. For whatever reason, treatment six made me see that, regardless of how much easier this chemo regimin is that my past treatments, it's no cake walk, and I can't just plow through this time with a couple of 1-2 mile jogs and a case of champagne. I need to be a little honest with myself.
Anemia Stinks
While most of my blood counts are normal, my red cells aren't. They're not terrible--I wont need any transfusions...they levels are just, kinda low and lousy. What does that mean for me? Well, my red cells aren't well oxygenated, so exercise is hard. Heck, I'm even getting tired walking up the stairs--and that's just maddening, given that I was running up to 5 miles just 2.5 months ago.
My brain is also foggy, nearly all the time. I'm easily distracted, and I can't multitask, which is typically a strength of mine. At times, I'll be mid-sentence and I can't get my brain to spit the rest of the words out of my mouth.
Oh, the Hair
In my past experiences with chemo, I've lost all my hair around Week 2-3. When this did not happen, my friends and family started asking, "Do you think it may not come out?" Of course, I've been afraid to ask that same question myself. Now, at Week 7, the signs of hair loss are showing. Small handfulls of strands of hair come out when I brush. Larger amounts come out when I wash my hair. Fortunately, for now, my thick hair is helping here...and I still seem to have "normal" looking hair to most everyone. Some of my friends can tell a difference, but only because they are looking for the change. Because of my fabulously talented friends, I have a whole small drawer of gorgeous handmade hats to help me cover my hair loss when the time comes. And I have 3 adorable wigs to go with my moods, and a bag of hats and scarves that my Champagne Sister has loaned me in the meantime. On the surface, I'm ready for this.
But all of the sassy wigs and adorable hats only cushion the blow: who is ever ready to waking up each morning and seeing Cancer with a Capital C staring back at you in the mirror? It SUCKS. The hair loss SUCKS. Even though she is nearly a year out of treatment, my Champagne Sister still looks in the mirror at her adorably cute, sassy, short hair which she knows does not look remotely like a post-chemo do...and she is still reminded of Cancer with a Capital C. She didn't choose to have short hair...her shoulder length tresses were ripped from her head by toxins and she wants them back!
Yes, it's only hair. But other than surgical scars that are easily covered with clothing, it is the only visual reminder of our journey...and it SUCKS.
Did I mention that the whole hair loss thing SUCKS?
Is The Sun Ever Coming Out Again?
This winter has been especially painful here on the East Coast/Mid Atlantic region. We have not been pounded by snow, as they have been in New England. But those painful weather fronts, with their barometric pressure changes, dark clouds, and rain showers have hit us here in nearly constant waves. Last Friday, during that "half way through" chemo treatment, we had driving, cold, nasty rain all day. Everyone I know is "over" this winter. We haven't had much snow, we've only had dreary, cold, lousy weather for months. Even as the days get longer, the lack of natural sunlight because of the omni-present clouds combined with weather fronts, barometric pressure changes, and lousy rain seem to be mitigating the effects of the longer days on our moods.
Having chemo is no fun. Having chemo in the midst of lousy weather and low sunlight levels brings the hell to a whole new level.
I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends
Fortunately, I had planned this little shin-dig with a few neighbor ladies before my half-way-through-blues kicked in. We drank champagne, ate a little food, and generally just enjoyed each other for a couple of hours. It was like a breath of fresh air. Sunshine flooded my room, not just from my windows, but from my friends who were genuinely happy to be celebrating a real milestone with me. My Champagne Sister and I downed another bottle of bubbly (and then some) the day before Chemo #7. The case of champagne is now half empty...we'll be drinking that last bottle before we know it. My family continues to be enormously supportive and generally wonderful.
In Summary...
Yeah, this whole cancer thing got real last week. Cancer treatment just SUCKS (yes, this post was brought to you by the word SUCKS). Worrying about various post surgical lumps and bumps SUCKS. Wondering if you are over or under treating your illness SUCKS. Walking into an office every Friday to voluntarily have poison injected into your veins SUCKS. It's not fair, and there should be a better way to treat this creature that keeps trying to invade my body that doesn't involve exhaustion, nausea, and hair loss.
But, as they say, after winter, there will be spring. And to use another overused platitude, I get by with a little help from my friends.
