Doctors, nurses, other patients, survivors ... everyone warned me that chemo is cumulative. I didn't fully understand, or feel, what that means until this point in this round - because the only things that help me are water and sleep.
Author: Rebecca Tapley
chemo: round 4, days 3 and 4.
These are the days I want to describe with the most accuracy, and they are the ones I remember the least - and for me, that's probably for the best.
chemo: round 4, day 2.
I keep thinking - hoping, really - that this sideways motion will get easier because I've done it three times before. But it doesn't. I am anxious and I am resentful, and I want to hurry up and get out the other side.
chemo: round 4, day 1.
Insomnia: check. Restlessness: check. The urge to eat sugar-anything, even spoonfuls of Hershey's syrup: hell, yes, check. Nausea, gas, and intestinal squirmies: check, check, check.
Move over. Now.
Last time I wrote an entry, I said (bitterly) that the worst thing about cancer is the uncertainty - and that the hardest part is counterbalancing that uncertainty with just the right amount of knowledge. After being diagnosed with shingles, I no longer have any certain idea who came along for this ride.
just a little bit poxy
The name of this entry was going to be "10 Things I Hate About You," Right now there's just one thing I really, sincerely, loathe: the fact that I've got shingles.
sentenced to life
For me, cancer is a life sentence that I have to shoulder and somehow work around for as long as I have to live. I've joined the ranks of 14.7 million Americans who are living with cancer, in some form, at any given moment. We are living with it.
chemo: round 3, day 5
I've had another request from a reader to say more about neuropathy. That topic segues into today's front-line report about chemo quite nicely, in fact, so I will expound.
chemo: round 3, day 4
Something tonight - something in the specific shifting of my bones, muscles, and ligaments on these stairs - took me right back to a different moment, long past and dimly stored, but somehow just the same.
chemo: round 3, day 2 (and, let’s face it, day 3)
Yesterday, Day 2, is a blur. Today, Day 3, is just plain missing. I thought I wouldn't sleep at all last night. Instead, I didn't wake up properly till about 3:30 P.M.