Chemo . . . one week later

I thought I should give another update since a few people have mentioned checking my blog and wondered how things are going one week after chemo.

The answer is . . . I feel almost "normal." Well, there are some side effects still lingering and more on the horizon (hair loss, for example), but overall, I am completely surprised and grateful that I feel as good as I do.

My husband and I went back to Swedish Hospital for a follow-up appointment today and we were only there about an hour! Woo hoo! I had my blood counts done and met with Dr. E., the oncologist. 

She said that I was a little anemic, but she isn't worried about it. My white counts look good (the $6,000 shot must have worked). I made a list of side effects that I experienced last week and feel better prepared for the next treatment. For one, I probably will taper off the anti-nausea meds sooner since I figured out that they are pretty powerful and contributed to making me feel "puny."

I asked when the menopause symptoms are going to kick in, as the chemo regimen I am on usually induces menopause (or at least menopause symptoms). Dr. E. answered that they could kick in anytime or not at all (which would be rare).

I guess the thing that bothers me about having hot flashes is having these things happen when I least expect them while at work--say, in an intimate meeting with the boss in his office or sitting around the table with five or six co-workers. One of my good friends told me that she usually just fans herself and says, "Personal summer!" Hehe. I think I'll borrow that line.

So, the bottom line is that I didn't feel too badly the day after chemo, then I felt "icky" for about four days. On the weekend, I felt far better, although my heart was pounding every time I exerted myself even a tiny bit (going up and down staris) and after I ate.

I'm told it's because the red cell count is down and the heart has to work harder to get oxygen through the body. It's rather unnerving, though, when you're lying in bed and your heart is pounding (not fast, just hard). When I mentioned it to Dr. E., she said it was normal, sort of like "The Little Engine That Could." I liked her analogy.

Dr. E. doesn't seem like a doctor, in the way that so many doctors are condescendi ng or just don't have time for you. She simply seems like a regular person with whom you can chat and who also happens to be a doctor.

One of the side effects that I experienced a day or so after the chemo treatment was totally unexpected. I was sitting at the computer when suddenly I noticed a white spot in my field of vision that wouldn't allow me to see anything on the computer screen whenever I looked directly at it. I got up from the computer and left the room. I thought maybe I was becoming sensitive to the light.

I went into a darkened room and when I closed my eyes, the white spot (with jagged edges) still showed up. I thought that if I tried to go to sleep with it there, I would go crazy. It seemed to be flashing a bit as well.

Fortun ately, after about 45 minutes, the spot went away. When I mentioned this side effect to Dr. E., she said it was a "visual migraine" caused by the drugs. I had never heard of such a thing, but she assured me that it was real and that her husband sometimes has them. I have never had a migraine headache, so this was a new one to me. It was pretty unpleasant, so I hope it doesn't happen again.

I went to church yesterday and unfortunately, I returned home more depressed than when I left. That never happens, but I ran into a couple of people who felt the need to tell me about people they've known with cancer and of course, the outcome wasn't good or the regimen wasn't good or whatever. I was also told that I should look into treatment that uses radio frequencies to cure cancer (just when I thought I'd heard it all, there's something new).

I just want to be around people who inspire me, who give me hope and encourage me. Selfish, I know, but there it is.

I admit that I was feeling depressed in the days leading up to the weekend anyway. I think staying home after chemo gave me plenty of time to think (and feel crummy). It brought home to me the reality of what I'm facing. With surgery, you can recover in a few days and move on. With chemo, you know you're into it for the long haul (not to mention the radiation that is to follow).

Also, I knew that I needed to face the hair loss coming up and I just didn't feel like having one more thing to think about. But I bit the bullet and had my good friend cut my hair Sunday night. She cut it pretty short, but it's still a cute haircut. Now when my hair starts to go in another week, I'll have my husband buzz-cut it. This interim cut didn't traumatize me as much as I thought it would. I've never worn my hair short, so it was a different look for me, but my husband and daughter were very encouraging about it.

Speaking of my daughter, she touched my heart last night. As we prepared to drive to my friend's house for the haircut, she knew that I was feeling anxious and depressed. While we waited for my husband to come out to the car, she said, "Mom, everything's going to be okay. We love you the same no matter what's on your head." It was really quite sweet. :~)

So tomorrow I return to work and I plan to wear my new wig over my short hair. I want to get used to wearing the wig before I'm actually bald. I'm looking forward to getting back to a routine. And just about the time things will seem halfway normal, it will be time for treatment number two.

A co-worker sent this to me and I think it's worth sharing. These words are infinitely true.

What cancer cannot do 

Cancer is limited . . .
It cannot cripple Love
It cannot shatter Hope
It cannot corrode Faith
It cannot destroy Peace
It cannot kill Friendship
It cannot suppress Memories
It cannot silence Courage
It cannot invade the Soul
It cannot steal eternal Life
It cannot conquer the Spirit

AMEN!