I've dragged myself through round two of cisplatin and VP-16 and have come out the other side, the worse for wear. Couldn't find the energy to get out of bed for radiation on Monday; I'd lost 6 pounds of water weight (116) and was really dragging and dry heaving all morning. Lauren, my champion, talked to the chemo people and went upstairs after radiation for 3 hours and got rehydrated and shot full of anti-nausea drugs. I'm still throwing up last night and this morning, but at least I'm moving a bit quicker. I've made appts. to go Weds., Thurs., and Friday for saline injections along with anti-nausea IVs because this just hurts too much. Being on the edge of vomitting 24 hours a day is more than I can bear.
Just knowing that this chemo is done and radiation will be finished next week has given me a new lease on life. I just have to drag myself into next week. Dr. T says it will be about 3 weeks before I start feeling better - I'll feel worse before getting better. I don't see how I could feel any worse so I'll knock on wood.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
6:35 a.m.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Second round of Chemo
Did a round of cisplatin last Friday and by Saturday night was sick as the proverbial dog (wonder what HE ATE to get so sick)...maybe drinking out of the toilet bowl? Not mine! I did ask the doctor about my dog drinking toilet water even if I flushed all the chemo urine/vomit down and he said it wasn't a good idea. I keep my lids closed now and check and recheck...don't want my lil Scooter dog to get sick.
My friend Beth made record time getting to Iowa on Sunday and arrived around 7:30 pm. The interstate was dry but once she got off in West Des Moines, slid through several intersections. She's from Wisconsin but she said Iowa looks like Alaska with all the huge snow banks and drifts. Wisconsin should be colder, it's further north. Global warming!
Upchucked breakfast and went on to VP16 Monday morning after radiation at the Cancer Center. These nurses here know what they're doing! Barely felt when they poked me with the IV needle. Thank you, Lord, for making my veins nice and fat. Took much longer than the 1 1/2 hours anticipated and didn't get home until almost 12:30. By then I was famished and Subway answered that call.
This morning (Tuesday), woke up early feeling nauseous and ate about two bites of oatmeal and the same of toast. Am trying a Sunkist soda....that sounds a lot better than 7-up or Pepsi. Haven't had either one of those...or coffee...for a week or so.
Ah, remembering the days when I could chug a Pepsi or swill a 7-Up in 0 to 3 seconds flat. March 1, according to my calculations, is my last day of radiation. Anyone out there know how long before my eating improves after ending radiation? I'm so so SO looking forward to eating without getting acid reflux or emesis.
Back to the grind today....
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
5:37 a.m.
My friend Beth made record time getting to Iowa on Sunday and arrived around 7:30 pm. The interstate was dry but once she got off in West Des Moines, slid through several intersections. She's from Wisconsin but she said Iowa looks like Alaska with all the huge snow banks and drifts. Wisconsin should be colder, it's further north. Global warming!
Upchucked breakfast and went on to VP16 Monday morning after radiation at the Cancer Center. These nurses here know what they're doing! Barely felt when they poked me with the IV needle. Thank you, Lord, for making my veins nice and fat. Took much longer than the 1 1/2 hours anticipated and didn't get home until almost 12:30. By then I was famished and Subway answered that call.
This morning (Tuesday), woke up early feeling nauseous and ate about two bites of oatmeal and the same of toast. Am trying a Sunkist soda....that sounds a lot better than 7-up or Pepsi. Haven't had either one of those...or coffee...for a week or so.
Ah, remembering the days when I could chug a Pepsi or swill a 7-Up in 0 to 3 seconds flat. March 1, according to my calculations, is my last day of radiation. Anyone out there know how long before my eating improves after ending radiation? I'm so so SO looking forward to eating without getting acid reflux or emesis.
Back to the grind today....
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
5:37 a.m.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Chemo and Acid Indigestion...
CHEMO STARTS UP AGAIN TOMORROW!!! WAHHHHHH!!!! Okay, now I feel better. (The needles, the sting, the bloat, oh no.)
As you can tell, I'm not looking forward to chemo again. (Kasey, luck to you; I know you started again yesterday.) Chemo burps, farts, bloat, emesis, bad breath; lucky me - lucky all of us!
I have a sore throat but am unsure if it's the beginning of a cold or just a side effect from all the vomiting I've committed to lately. I think I'm pretty scary looking with little to no hair in patches. Really, I've never felt less sexy, less feminine. I don't care how "wonderful" you all think my features are - I DO HAVE A MIRROR and I think I look like the host from "Tales from the Crypt".
Now there's a pretty grotesque image.
I did have my wigs thinned some more yesterday and really, Judy at Look Good, Feel Better does a wonderful job.
My friend Beth is coming next week for a few days and I'm worried that I'll be so chemo'd out I won't even talk. I've gotten quieter and quieter and have taken to just sitting and staring for long periods of time. I don't particularly like it; I feel like someone should shout out "Earth to Susan". I have decided that when all of this is over, I'm taking a two week trip to the beach somewhere. If any of you want to join me, let me know. (Girls only beach time; sorry boys - well, Jonny, you can come; you've put up with five women all on your own for years and have come out the other side quite allright.)
Love all of you, thanks for your comments and following.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
5:04 a.m.
As you can tell, I'm not looking forward to chemo again. (Kasey, luck to you; I know you started again yesterday.) Chemo burps, farts, bloat, emesis, bad breath; lucky me - lucky all of us!
I have a sore throat but am unsure if it's the beginning of a cold or just a side effect from all the vomiting I've committed to lately. I think I'm pretty scary looking with little to no hair in patches. Really, I've never felt less sexy, less feminine. I don't care how "wonderful" you all think my features are - I DO HAVE A MIRROR and I think I look like the host from "Tales from the Crypt".
Now there's a pretty grotesque image.
I did have my wigs thinned some more yesterday and really, Judy at Look Good, Feel Better does a wonderful job.
My friend Beth is coming next week for a few days and I'm worried that I'll be so chemo'd out I won't even talk. I've gotten quieter and quieter and have taken to just sitting and staring for long periods of time. I don't particularly like it; I feel like someone should shout out "Earth to Susan". I have decided that when all of this is over, I'm taking a two week trip to the beach somewhere. If any of you want to join me, let me know. (Girls only beach time; sorry boys - well, Jonny, you can come; you've put up with five women all on your own for years and have come out the other side quite allright.)
Love all of you, thanks for your comments and following.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
5:04 a.m.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Hats and scarves...
My little sister Stephanie sent me the cutest hats and scarves! Thank you, Lubba...they are darling. I will call you tonight. I prefer scarves and hats to the wig. "Stingly" I think Kasey called what it feels like wearing a wig. Hot, itchy, and honestly, it kind of hurts my head.
In my "radiation support group" a woman (the caregiver of the couple) was telling us how her husband's head hurts from the hair loss. I will try to explain it like this (I can only speak for my own pain)...imagine the hair follicles as little hands holding on for dear life before dropping into an abyss. Then here comes the chemo drug dressed in big army boots, stomping on the hair follicles' little hands, making them let go, as they drop screaming into the eddy below. Okay, so maybe I have too much of an imagination...but that's what it feels like on my head...someone stomping on my scalp to the point where it needs rubbing (and thank you all, I do that myself). And imagine putting a hot wig on top of these little follicles and chemo wearing army boots...makes for a lot going on up there. (smile)
Have changed all my chemo appointments to downtown. I think all the Yuppies must go to the West Side and all the people like me (gregarious) go downtown...since I'm down there everyday for radiation, thought I'd stay for the chemo as well. Apparently the West Side people prefer to be scared and not talk to anyone for support even though the chemo room is set up as a common room which encourages folks to be optimistic with each other; you know, chit-chat, laugh, talk books/movies/stories.
They have little side rooms (like bedrooms) for those who don't want to talk. My question is: if they don't want to talk, why do they? Too hard for me not to respond to people when they talk and since I've been asked NOT to talk to other patients, I'll just go downtown where they encourage patients to support each other through laughter and general conversation, sometimes even just telling their stories. (I did ask the downtown center how they felt about conversing with other people and the answer was positive.) Weird, weird, weird West Side.
Wednesday, Feb. 10, 2010
5:35 a.m.
In my "radiation support group" a woman (the caregiver of the couple) was telling us how her husband's head hurts from the hair loss. I will try to explain it like this (I can only speak for my own pain)...imagine the hair follicles as little hands holding on for dear life before dropping into an abyss. Then here comes the chemo drug dressed in big army boots, stomping on the hair follicles' little hands, making them let go, as they drop screaming into the eddy below. Okay, so maybe I have too much of an imagination...but that's what it feels like on my head...someone stomping on my scalp to the point where it needs rubbing (and thank you all, I do that myself). And imagine putting a hot wig on top of these little follicles and chemo wearing army boots...makes for a lot going on up there. (smile)
Have changed all my chemo appointments to downtown. I think all the Yuppies must go to the West Side and all the people like me (gregarious) go downtown...since I'm down there everyday for radiation, thought I'd stay for the chemo as well. Apparently the West Side people prefer to be scared and not talk to anyone for support even though the chemo room is set up as a common room which encourages folks to be optimistic with each other; you know, chit-chat, laugh, talk books/movies/stories.
They have little side rooms (like bedrooms) for those who don't want to talk. My question is: if they don't want to talk, why do they? Too hard for me not to respond to people when they talk and since I've been asked NOT to talk to other patients, I'll just go downtown where they encourage patients to support each other through laughter and general conversation, sometimes even just telling their stories. (I did ask the downtown center how they felt about conversing with other people and the answer was positive.) Weird, weird, weird West Side.
Wednesday, Feb. 10, 2010
5:35 a.m.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Superbowl and Supershorts
Couldn't stand it anymore and got up yesterday, found the dog's shaving kit, and buzzed my mangey head. Showered and scrubbed my head pretty hard (it does hurt, after all) and watched teeny, tiny shards of hair wash down the drain. Boy, underneath all the hair pre-buzz, I had some patches of mange going. Urgh. It's done. Now I truly look like a radiation victim. ARGHHHHH!!!!
The photo above is at the Superbowl party at Larry's - Lauren and Susie in her almost like my "real" hair wig. Let me tell you, wearing a wig is not sexy or even very comfortable. Maybe once my own hair stops hurting it won't be so bad. In two words: hot/itchy.
Had a great day yesterday; felt good, took a handful of anti-nausea pills so I wouldn't feel icky, and even managed to eat a sandwich and some apps so graciously provided by Lawrence Loffredo.
As you can see, I keep a pretty good hold on his throat! Love that man.
Lots of snow here again so will have to leave early for radiation this morning. (No, I'm not looking forward to it.) The char taste is still in my mouth every time the machine buzzes on, and a worse taste you couldn't ask for.
I'm starting to dread this week. Friday I have chemo (cisplatin) and then next week, all week, the etoposide with cisplatin on that following Friday. Then I think I'm finished with that 2nd round of chemo and no third round until sometime in March, and monthly thereafter for 2 or 3 rounds.
Monday, February 8, 2010
7:30 a.m.
The photo above is at the Superbowl party at Larry's - Lauren and Susie in her almost like my "real" hair wig. Let me tell you, wearing a wig is not sexy or even very comfortable. Maybe once my own hair stops hurting it won't be so bad. In two words: hot/itchy.
Had a great day yesterday; felt good, took a handful of anti-nausea pills so I wouldn't feel icky, and even managed to eat a sandwich and some apps so graciously provided by Lawrence Loffredo.
As you can see, I keep a pretty good hold on his throat! Love that man.
Lots of snow here again so will have to leave early for radiation this morning. (No, I'm not looking forward to it.) The char taste is still in my mouth every time the machine buzzes on, and a worse taste you couldn't ask for.
I'm starting to dread this week. Friday I have chemo (cisplatin) and then next week, all week, the etoposide with cisplatin on that following Friday. Then I think I'm finished with that 2nd round of chemo and no third round until sometime in March, and monthly thereafter for 2 or 3 rounds.
Monday, February 8, 2010
7:30 a.m.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Did I say No Hair Loss?
If so, I'm going to have to eat my words, or watch them wash down the shower drain. Ohhh! How traumatic losing big clumps of hair. And the weird thing is, you can't even tell (yet) how much I've lost. I must have more hair to start with than ever I thought. I did go back to Sahar's and have them give me a boy cut. Now, when I comb through my hair after showering, I don't cry at the clumps. Long clumps are scary, short clumps - not so bad. Or could it be that I've accepted that I'll lose my hair? A little of both. I'll post a pic of my new hair cut once I get Lauren to take a picture.
On the "how do I feel" front. Simple: not so good. Very fatigued, nauseous, no motivation...and sitting up on the edge of my bed in the morning is exhausting enough that I have to SIT for about 10 more minutes before I manage to haul myself to the bathroom. Now that I've gotten this FINE NEW haircut, I look like a rooster when I wake up. Everything on my head is sticking out at right angles (at least there's enough to stick out). I do know that the days are numbered for my hair because it hurts...you know that hurt...like when you wear a pony tail too tight and you take the band out and your hair hurts. That kind of hurt, without the pony tail. Enough of my hair.
Sorry I haven't posted. I haven't been able to make myself walk down the stairs and log on. I felt better yesterday and feel okay today. Just really tired. Really, really tired.
Dr. T. (radiation oncologist) told me what I'm feeling is normal. All the vomitting is normal - the smells and tastes are normal. Next Monday I'll be at the 1/2 mark...(I thought I was there on Weds. but Dr. T. assured me that 6 weeks is not really 30 days, it's 33 days) and I can "coast downhill" until the first part of March; then I'll start feeling good again. I am really ready for that.
Am dropping weight so bought Ensure. (Yuck) I'll never be a spokesperson for that. I think I'll stick with chocolate icecream shakes. If there are too many preservatives in things, I can smell/taste them and get sick.
Am not in the mood to chronicle how crappy I've felt the past week (and I'll only get worse!!!!) I would like to be more positive and believe that this is the worst I'll feel, but knowing I have more chemo starting on the 12th and radiation every day makes me a realist and not a Pollyanna. I did head back to the acupuncturist and confided in him my phobia of needles. Bill told me just to let him know and he'll use as few needles as possible to still do the most good; but I MUST come and it will help. I want to believe him so I will.
One last note. When I walked out of treatment on Tuesday, I saw my ex-roommate. We lived together for about 4 years before I married. She was in with her husband. Weird. AND, I've found my support group in the radiation lounge. Two are care-givers, two of us have cancer. We share, laugh, cry a bit, and encourage. That's all I need.
Promising the next bit will be a better read.
February 5, 2010
5:37 a.m.
On the "how do I feel" front. Simple: not so good. Very fatigued, nauseous, no motivation...and sitting up on the edge of my bed in the morning is exhausting enough that I have to SIT for about 10 more minutes before I manage to haul myself to the bathroom. Now that I've gotten this FINE NEW haircut, I look like a rooster when I wake up. Everything on my head is sticking out at right angles (at least there's enough to stick out). I do know that the days are numbered for my hair because it hurts...you know that hurt...like when you wear a pony tail too tight and you take the band out and your hair hurts. That kind of hurt, without the pony tail. Enough of my hair.
Sorry I haven't posted. I haven't been able to make myself walk down the stairs and log on. I felt better yesterday and feel okay today. Just really tired. Really, really tired.
Dr. T. (radiation oncologist) told me what I'm feeling is normal. All the vomitting is normal - the smells and tastes are normal. Next Monday I'll be at the 1/2 mark...(I thought I was there on Weds. but Dr. T. assured me that 6 weeks is not really 30 days, it's 33 days) and I can "coast downhill" until the first part of March; then I'll start feeling good again. I am really ready for that.
Am dropping weight so bought Ensure. (Yuck) I'll never be a spokesperson for that. I think I'll stick with chocolate icecream shakes. If there are too many preservatives in things, I can smell/taste them and get sick.
Am not in the mood to chronicle how crappy I've felt the past week (and I'll only get worse!!!!) I would like to be more positive and believe that this is the worst I'll feel, but knowing I have more chemo starting on the 12th and radiation every day makes me a realist and not a Pollyanna. I did head back to the acupuncturist and confided in him my phobia of needles. Bill told me just to let him know and he'll use as few needles as possible to still do the most good; but I MUST come and it will help. I want to believe him so I will.
One last note. When I walked out of treatment on Tuesday, I saw my ex-roommate. We lived together for about 4 years before I married. She was in with her husband. Weird. AND, I've found my support group in the radiation lounge. Two are care-givers, two of us have cancer. We share, laugh, cry a bit, and encourage. That's all I need.
Promising the next bit will be a better read.
February 5, 2010
5:37 a.m.
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