And Then There Was One.

All the support in the world is not enough to make me want to go to chemo. It just sucks. It’s as pleasant as something that sucks can possibly be, because of the chemo nurses. They’re amazing. They seem to genuinely care. Nonetheless, it sucks.
But we’re going to focus on all the things that didn’t suck today. First of all, when my awesome sister, Shannon, picked me up today, she had burned four cancer cd’s for me. A Going to Chemo CD (“My Little Runaway vs. I Feel Like Going Home”), a during chemo cd entitled “Hell…A Visitor’s Guide,” another one entitled “Dear Cancer, I’m Going to Make it Out Alive. So Bring It.” and finally, a relaxation-style one for the post-chemo ride home called “How to Live.” She had put a lot of time into making these, and Ryan helped a lot with input for the songs. It made what would have been an unpleasant drive (because, face it, I don’t ever want to go to chemo) very nice.
We got there, and the obstacles began. First, so many people were in the waiting room. Then, magically, a new form to fill out. Then, the wait. Then, the blood draw and the blood pressure. This time, my blood pressure was low-ish on the high end, 109/79. Whatever that is, systolic? hydraulic? diabolic? I don’t care.
When I went for the pre-chemo check with the doctor, I found out that 1)I had some kind of rash all over my back and 2)I have an irregular heartbeat. I didn’t like any of this news, but at least they weren’t concerned that I had too many things wrong to not get the chemo.
By that time I had long since ditched my wig. That’s the one place I feel like I can do that, though I noticed I was the only bald chemo person in the room. I didn’t care.
What I love about chemo…the warm blankets. The chair. The little tv. Shannon had brought games, but we didn’t end up playing. I didn’t even read. We just talked. It was nice. Tami had bought me these fancy little chocolates last night, so as soon as I had my weigh-in I went crazy. Bananas Foster – freaking amazing. Then Champagne Chocolate – didn’t really taste champagne but it was still great. Finally, Tupelo Honey. LOTS of honey. Really, really good.
Shannon got me an awesome salad (Billy had sent her instructive texts this morning for an hour. He was so worried and upset that he couldn’t be at this one. He’s awesome.) fixed with all the best salad stuff, and I inhaled that, too. And of course I sucked my ice chips to prevent mouth sores. I get sick of ice chips, but I would get more sick of mouth sores. Thus, the ice chips are a staple.
Right now, I’m just tired. Kind of stressed and depressed, but glad that I’m halfway done. The next one will be my last Adriamycin/Cytoxan, then I switch the Taxol for the last two. I want to be done. I’m ready to say, “Yeah, I had cancer. A long time ago. I beat it.” I want to tell people it can be done. Yeah, that’s the part I look forward to.

The Chemo Diaries, Session Two/Hey, my Hair Jumped Ship

I felt fantastic the last four days – it was a natural high the likes of which I had never known (in a natural state, that is). Last night Bill and I went to dinner with Stacy and Kelly, and we had so much fun. Then I went to the bathroom. After I washed my hands, I reached up to pat down my staticky hair, and a (to me, very) large cluster of hair remained on my hand after I took it away.

Even though I had been losing hairs the last three days, I wasn’t worried. I lose a lot of hair on a daily basis anyway. This didn’t seem excessive. But this stalk o’ locks told me otherwise.

Then, of course, I was ready to GO, which was great, timing-wise, because they were about to close. I was sure the whole mess of hair was going to slide right off my head any minute, and I wanted as few people as possible to know what my head looked like, at least until I knew what it looked like.

We drove home and debated, but Bill’s cool logic prevailed, and so we had one of those romantic evenings many couples only dream of, in which he buzzed my hair totally off and made jokes and I laughed. Then Hunter decided he was next, though he didn’t want to go quite as extreme as I did. I understood this, as I didn’t want to go quite as extreme as I did either.

So now I know what my head looks like. It’s not too bad. No lumps, no bumps, and no disturbing discoloration. My ears look bigger, obviously. And I look a lot shorter, which makes no sense, because I had some of the flattest hair known to man.

Second chemo today, and Bill had to almost physically force me into the car. I kept remembering all the things I needed to do (oh, my vitamins! oh, my purse! oh, which hat shall I wear on my freakin’ bald head?). You know, the basics. But we did get there, and they hooked me up, only to make me move because Dr. Reed wanted to see me but didn’t feel like going to the chemo room. They explained it away by saying she wanted to examine me. Well, she could have had me breathe with her stethoscope in the chemo room just as well, but whatever. I had a bone to pick with that woman, anyway.

I hate confrontation, so I jumped in as soon as she entered the room.

“You and I agreed on six chemotherapy sessions of Adriamycin and Cytoxan. Last time I was here, the chemo nurses told me I was down for eight – four of Adriamycin/Cytoxan and four of Taxol. Why is that?”

“Well, you delayed your treatment to freeze eggs, so that made it necessary to change the protocol.”

This made me angry.

“YOU were the one who told me I could do that. You said it was built into your plan, the same plan we went over here during my second appointment with you. AND I also came in three weeks ahead of your deadline.”

“Yes, but it’s necessary now due to your delay.”

“OK, then how about the fact that you didn’t TELL ME? EVER? I had to hear it from a chemo nurse I had never met before!”

“Well, the Taxol isn’t as bad.”

“Well, I’m doing six sessions.”

All in all, right now I don’t feel too bad. I have another wig now, and the woman at Riddles on 20th in Joplin is so amazing. Her wigs are all half price for chemo patients, and she taught me a lot about the wearing of wigs. I had mine on about 60% cockeyed every time. She was very patient.

I’m so grateful for Bill. He has done so much for me. We have chickens now, so I can have hormone-free meat. He bought me the wig. He has cooked and cleaned relentlessly. He told me I was so cute with a bald head. He took me to dinner so I could see Stacy last night, someone I haven’t seen in I have no idea how many years. He set it up himself.

I love him. I’m glad he’s here.

And what would I do without my amazing kid and his shaved head?

Thank you for your support, guys. It helps the dark days stay several shades lighter than black.