February 11 of 2018 was such an interesting day…
When I went to my chemo class before the wretched stuff was officially pumped into my veins, I remember them saying, “you’ll start with 6 rounds — a ‘round’ is 21 days — of ‘bad’ chemo and then finish up with rounds 7 through 18 of [what, “good”?] chemo, officially lasting a year from start to finish. 12 months. Every 21 days. 18 rounds. Chemo.
Chemo—freakin—therapy.
Chemo.
For a year.
A w h o l e d a m n y e a r.
And the opposite of bad is not always good…there is no such thing as “good” chemo.
It’s all bad.
Anyways, February 11 of 2018 was the 21st day of my 6th round of ‘bad’ chemo. It was the day the “bad” chemo was over. It was the day, day 126, my taste buds could mostly return, my appetite could sort of regulate, my puking could kind of subside, my hair could start to come back to life… It was the day that each day next was one day further away from my first ‘Day 1’ and one day closer to my last ‘Day 21’ (aka day 377). And with the ‘other’ chemo…my seventh ‘Day 1’ less than 24 hours away…the tentative hope of different weighed heavy.
But there was a different different, too. I was different. Forever different. Forever altered. Forever changed. And everyday since, I’ve had to live changed because of how it changed me. Most times I write about the benefit of choosing to ‘live changed.’ Today, however, I am remembering the pure hell that was my year of chemo and how change was forced upon me in one of the most horrific ways this side of heaven.
*Post 1047
Every 21 Days…For Another 9 Months :: 2/11/18 :: Post 162
Tomorrow is chemo again.
The first of 12 rounds with only two drugs instead of five.
The first of 12 rounds with supposedly “easier” side effects.
The first of 12 rounds that will hopefully prevent recurrence of this dreadful disease.
My fingers are crossed that I will actually experience the typical rather than the atypical….as I’ve been in the atypical camp so far in this part of my story.
I find myself anxious tonight because I’m on the front end of another unknown. What will the week ahead look like? How will I feel? What side effects will I experience? Will it be like they say it will be? How will it feel to be back in the infusion room, seeing my nurses again, but this time having hope that the worst truly is behind me…but not really knowing that yet? And how weird to go to chemo, this time alone, this time driving myself, this time going to work right after…..will I feel up to it?
Hmmm. So.Strange.
I know what people have told me to expect. But living it is a whole different thing.
I hope sleep comes easy for me tonight….I have a feeling tomorrow will have some new challenges.
PMS :: 2/11/19 :: Post 517
I found some other words to describe how I feel almost all of the time.
It’s like the worst PMS symptoms. 24/7.
And that’s all I have energy to write tonight. Bad headache and need to try and sleep.
(No Post for 2/11/20)