Monday, 26 January 2015

The fog

2 weeks tomorrow since round 1 chemo infusion...My last post was pretty up-beat with a solid day done and no reactions.  All good, but that night I had muscle cramps in my forearms that were enough to keep me up most of the night.  Interestingly, with the list of over 50 side effects that the chemo or the supporting drugs combined suggest, that is not one of them.  I suppose I should not be surprised given my history with the "rare and unusual" being more commonplace in my world ;)

I figured out a combination of robaxecet, rotating heating gloves and pads (thanks Colleen) and another med for night that eventually got me some rest, but the bone pain (which is on the list) also set in and the familiar crappy/mega tired/discomfort chemo feeling also layered in.  The good news - no significant nausea - no real appetite but my prior chemo experience allowed me to just eat anyway.  All said, days 3-8 are not great, physically or mentally.  Nothing remotely even close to the days and weeks post flesh-eating disease or even induction chemo for leukemia, but not fun for my now older body and mind.  Around day 9 the slight shades of improvement each day were hope that the fog was lifting, and by last Friday day 11, I felt human enough to go for an hour or so to a friend's birthday party.  Another reminder that the body is so resilient if you can tolerate when it is under fire.

Since Friday I have realized each day how crappy I was feeling as I continue to feel better and more myself each day, and get out and do normal things.   And now I have a week until it starts again.  Not sure how much will accumulate each cycle, if round 5 and 6 will feel a lot worse, or if each cycle I might enjoy the third week of feeling decent.  I also wonder if there is some brilliant thought of how to avoid the intesity of the muscular issue, so I'll give a call to my nurse and see what she thinks in case we can make round 2 smoother.

Beyond the navigation of the chemo and side effects, I've made a few plans with friends this week, and will also be a proud godparent to the twins when they are baptized a week from Saturday.  As if I didn't already have enough perspective on life, this unexpected fourth go at cancer thing is causing me to think about a lot of stuff differently again.  Everyone who turns 40 is usually forced to take stock of where they are in their life and sometimes make changes as a result (sportscars and divorces included).  I turned 40 last year, but I feel like I already did my taking stock 3 times already with leukemia, so this time is kind of bewildering to me, causing me to wonder a lot more about what I am supposed to do during this brief experience as a human being we get.

In any case, I am thankful for the thoughts, prayers and energy you sent, and for the unbelievable weather outside.  And a full week before the fog returns ;)

3 comments:

BJ said...

Hi Tricia,
Sorry the effects have been so unpleasant, but glad to hear you are feeling a bit better each day. I'm hoping each cycle will get no worse, and maybe even be a bit better. As for what you are supposed to do, you have done more in your 40 years than most people do in 80, so just keep doing what you are and get through the next round successfully. We continue to keep you in our mind, hearts and prayers.

Love, BJ

Mary Ellen said...

Hi Tricia,
BJ has it right when she says you do so much in your life. You sure seem to live as fully as possible even when in treatment. It sounds like you've had pretty severe after-effects. We hope the next round is better. Bob & I are thinking about you and sending our love and prayers. xoxo

Louise and David said...

Dear Tricia,
The title of your latest blog posting really says it all. We knew right away that you were probably coming out of a period of total immersion in the side-effects of chemo infusion. We are so sorry to hear that. We wish you did not have to face more of the same, several times over. Amazingly, you are still able to close on a note of thanks for a short break from what you describe as "the fog".

Your writing is a gift of shared experience and insight. We can only imagine what an inspiration you are to others who are fighting similar battles. Those of us who simply provide periphery support have certainly learned life-changing lessons from you.

For years you have been doing exactly what you (and all of us) are supposed to be doing - loving life and living it to the full. Your regard for life encourages us to find strength in times of weakness, courage in times of fear, determination in times of uncertainty.

Just keep on being you, Tricia and do whatever is necessary to find a measure of ease and comfort in each new day.

Lots of love,
Louise and David