Round Three.

Chemo class taught me that chemo “these days” tends to be very manageable, almost “easy” because of the meds used to manage side effects. Chemo class also taught me that rounds tend to copy whatever Round One was and since chemo is “easy,” it will all end up being quite (albeit cancer-relative) reasonable.

Well. Round One sucked. “Easy”?? HA. What a mean joke. But then it turned out that Round Two suuuuuuuuuuucked even more. But did so differently. So ??? Round Three ??? I sat in my infusion chair for R3, praying it would be different, the ground under me unstable though, not knowing actually what to pray for… Do I pray for it to copy R1? Blech but predictable nonetheless. D e f i n i t e l y didn’t want a replay of R2….I barely made it. But do I really want yet a third version of suckage?
As it turns out…none of the rounds were the same. N O N E. 
And each one…S U C K E D. And each one sucked…D I F F E R E N T L Y.

There is an interesting both+and here, though…

I wasn’t so lucky despite my wishing all-might-ily to have my cancer story in the “these days,” “manageable” category. Instead, around every corner even up to this present day, I’ve been in the “you’re bad at cancer” category (lovingly dubbed by my favorite cancer nurse)….. Because of this, I have regrettably spent some (okay, maybe it was more than some) energy resenting the fact that I haven’t gotten the “reasonable” experience.

Yet, while I feel deep resentment toward my deviant cancer, I now know a very significant deep gratitude. A gratitude only gained because of my deviant cancer.

*Post 961

#3 Infusion :: 11/20/17 :: Post 84

Well, round #3 infusion is in the books. I cannot consider #3 over until we make it through the side-effects…but one has to come before the other. I’m glad to get that part done….and now I wait. Again.

I am hopeful that the anti-nausea patch (which eliminates the need to take so many pills/meds, which in turn eliminates the unfortunate side-effects of meds), acupuncture, a ketogenic diet, extra appointments at my cancer center for fluids (on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday) and possibly medical marijuana are all interventions that will make this round significantly more tolerable. Chemo is supposed to be hard and it will continue to be interventions or not, but they are all worth a try. And it turns out that the more tolerable the chemo, the safer my body is throughout the remainder of this poisonous hell. [I’m grateful for that new little nugget of truth…]

I will say that today was tough. Sitting there in the chair, in the thick of it – only 2 down, with 4 to go, not yet getting to say “half way” because I have to survive a whole round of side-effects still, remembering that those that have gone before say #3 and #4 are especially difficult emotionally and saying #5 and #6 are the hardest on the body. Knowing what comes but not really knowing since #1 and #2 were SO vastly different. Dreading the possible side-effects but holding out hope that the interventions will help. Being hopeful but being careful not to put all my eggs in that one basket so I don’t come crashing down if the interventions don’t help. Being grateful but angry in the same moments. LOVING my nurses but hating why I have to know them. Thankful that my husband sits next to me in the quiet of infusion day but so sad to be where we are at – literally and figuratively. Experiencing so many hot flashes *eye roll. Knowing my army is surrounding me with thoughts and prayers, tangible help and wonderful encouraging words in texts and cards but not knowing how to truly thank them and not wanting to let them down. Having to accept that this round happens on a holiday week and will make Thanksgiving look very different for me this year (and probably many to come). Sitting in the same room with a woman who was passing out cake to everyone to celebrate her very last chemo treatment and wishing it was me (not wanting to turn down her cake or not celebrate her because I know how I will feel on that day but also being so resentful to a stranger because she is where I wish I could be).

Today was hard. Just like yesterday had it’s hard. And just like tomorrow will, too. But let’s do this…let’s get to tomorrow. And then the next day. And then the next. And the next. The sooner I get these weeks behind me the closer I get to my own cake and celebration.

Thank you, Lord, that cake and celebration have been offered to me despite the current hell I must endure.

Weird :: 11/20/18 :: Post 433

I am in a weird brain and heart space. Frustrated. Uncertain. Weary. Grateful.

Gratitude Month Day 20 :: 11/20/19 :: Post 796

Round 3 was a tough one and today, two years ago, was infusion day. I was trying every intervention I could to manage the side effects of the poison of chemo…and the ones I tried very minimally helped. But helped nonetheless. Round 3 was also difficult because it coincided with Thanksgiving week and it was a very uninvited guest…

Last year I was in a difficult brain space – feeling frustrated and uncertain.

Today, I have felt awful. My joints have hurt at an 8 all day today, my head hurts, my stomach feels off and I feel way funky emotionally. Ugh. I’m unmotivated, sluggish, weary and listless.

Yet…Gratitude Month Day 20 – while I sit here, recognizing how life has been the last two years and acknowledging how I am feeling today…all of which are not super great…I am grateful that the bad days are temporary. We’ll see how tomorrow is. And if I get tomorrow, that’s an automatic win, whether it’s a good day or bad.