Feeling the chemo pumping through one’s system is a strange feeling indeed. Sometimes it is more noticeable than others, but this time (Friday, July 11th) it was sure noticeable. First went the Red Devil, which is administered by hand, out of a plunger large enough to be associated with a horse. Then came the Procytox through IV.
As it was all flowing into my system through my bionic Port-a-cath, it was as though I had a bad head cold starting. My head felt ‘full’ and my nose started running like a rapidly-dripping tap. It felt like all the chemo was collecting in my head. The nurse said it is a common affect. Meanwhile, she was dressed from head to toe in protection in case of any possible chemo spillage whilst I was in my little sun dress. How ironic!
Upon completion of the chemo session, Kirk and I left the hospital and took a leisurely drive downtown and remembered there was a local RibFest in town. Knowing there was only a short window before the effects hit, we decided to pick up some world-famous ribs on the way home. As I stood in line for ribs, I could feel the chemo really starting to do its thing and spread through the rest of my already tired body. We managed to get home and get a bit of protein into me before I started the almighty crash. Up to bed I went, barely able to keep my eyes open, as it felt like a bad dream was starting all over again.
The nausea commenced in the middle of the night and it seemed that all the meds they gave me to keep it under control this time weren’t touching it. From bed to couch to bed again I went for two straight days, barely able to make it up and down the stairs due to lack of strength. The chemo is doing its best at killing everything in my already thin body. My brain felt like mush, as did my muscles, and my senses had trouble focusing on anything in particular during those two days. While I tried to read, listen to an audiobook, watch a show on Netflix, or even listen to music, my brain could not tolerate it. It truly amazes me still, that I have agreed to have these toxic chemicals voluntarily put into my body – the kinds that are equivalent to hazardous waste. In fact, I recently read in The Cancer Killers book that “the idea of chemotherapy developed out of the use of Mustard Gas as a weapon during World War I. It began as an agent of death, as scientists saw how well it worked on a body’s fastest-growing cells.” Those of us in the Cancer Club clearly do chemo therapy out of fear, and can only hope for more years of full life ahead.
Yesterday and today I have been climbing back into the land of the living. I look forward to my IVC (IV vitamin C) again tomorrow, which will replenish my body with good things and give it the fighting strength it needs to kick this shit! Oops sorry mom! Forgot this is a G-rated blog.