In many states once you get outside of the city areas the highways have poetic names like “Highway M” or, “Highway Z” or, “Highway PP.” Every time Kathleen and I drive through Wisconsin we pass a sign that reads, “Hwy V” I have yet to be on top of my passenger duties enough to snap…
Category: Chemo
I’m HONGRY, Mama…
Having cancer, for me, means that I’m FRIGGIN’ STARVING almost all the time, but very few things sound good, and fewer things taste edible. Once I light on something that I can actually EAT, I spend days hoping that my tastes won’t change again. What I love on Monday can sometimes taste like doggy-do on Tuesday, and there’s no rhyme or reason to it. It’s not about spice, or temperature of food, or sugar content, or really anything.
One constant has been tea. I love a good cup of tea, and for better or for worse THAT is a delicious thing to cling to. I’m also good with bananas and peanut butter is generally a positive. There were a few days when the smell of it made me nauseas, but since then I’ve returned to the land of Smucker’s peanut butter, and in small amounts it’s good food.
Hello Again, My Friends!
I keep racking my brain for ANY food that is remotely appealing, but everything I try (even stuff that “sounds good”) ends up being a vehicle for nausea. Even my old stand by, ice cream. Oy.
So, I’m still here. A little shaky, a little pale, and apparently I’m right in the “eye” of the chemo, but I’ll get through it. Thank you for being here with me.
• Home Again [A Continuing Series of Bullet Points]
I’m too tired to blog, to weak to think straight, but I’m home. I’m exhausted, covered in adhesive from various body monitors, IV’s & ports. Every breath I take, even when I’m just sitting, feels ragged and shaky. I’m weak as a kitten, but nowhere near as adorable. I’m home, I’m up at 5, sitting…
SPRUNG Today!
After 5 days in the hospital, I’ll be getting sprung today! A visit somewhere away from home is always hard for me, even a vacation. I’m a Virgo, I love my home SO MUCH that when I’m forced to be away I feel oddly dislocated, not connected to my strength. My strength IS my home,…
Far Away Worry
I get sprung from here on Sunday. Today is my last chemo of this session, then depending on my labs I’ll be home for two or perhaps three weeks, getting my lab numbers back up (platelets, etc.) and perhaps a transfusion.
I am SO looking forward to being home, which I miss so much.
Bad Trip
My goals are to stay put. To get through this thing in one place, mentally and physically. TO just BE HERE, to be present, and to GET THROUGH IT. I would give anything to run away, but that’s not possible, you cannot outrun cancer.
Part of staying put will be trying to keep my good numbers up; good platelet counts, good hemoglobin, just GOOD numbers. And to keep the bad numbers down; heart rate below 100.
We Start TOMORROW!
The stress of the travel and the stress of the insurance snafu last week have left me exhausted, though. Absolutely shattered, just SO tired that I feel as though I’m sleepwalking. My body and my soul need rest, so perhaps these five days in the hospital will be a bit of a respite for me?
Respite
So imagine my joy when, on Friday, Ellyn confessed to me that she’d booked a flight out to St. Paul and would be staying the weekend!! She also booked into an Air BnB, but – luckily – her host contacted her on Sat morning to tell her that she’d have to cancel the reservation, so Ellyn was free to stay here, in Max’s room!
It’s been SUCH a lovely weekend. A lovely, silly, boring, wonderful weekend! I’m not able to do much, and this weekend my exhaustion and nausea levels were pretty high, but Ellyn was cool with just SITTING on the sofa and watching cooking shows while we giggled and ate ice cream with Baileys.
More Weight
It seems that the cancer is now in my bone marrow, and that’s not good. Yesterday, instead of getting the spinal tap I usually get (little did I ever think that the words “usually” and “spinal tap” would be used in a sentence involving my health) I was told to just stay home. My doctor is ‘regrouping’ and I’ll be seeing someone (Doctor? Nurse Practitioner?) on Monday to discuss the route forward for my treatment.
It would be ironic if, after all of the Mayo drama of the past week, I ended up receiving the same chemo cocktail that Dr. T was proposing, but via a different clinic up here (the University or Park Nicolette) Maybe ironic isn’t the word.