Screw Waterboarding.... Give 'em Chemo!

This is what one of my favorite comedians, Karen Mills, once said about her time in the wonderful land of chemo.  And no truer words have ever been spoken!  Strap them SOB's in a chair and fill them with this shit and I guarantee within 48 hours they'll agree to tell you whatever you need to know, just make the pain and nausea stop! haha!

Last time I wrote, I was just 1 round in and my hair had not fallen out yet, but the clumps were coming.  I couldn't really talk chemo because it was so horrible and I was still processing it and how to deal with what was coming.... 15 more rounds....

This morning, I am almost 3 months into my 2nd cancer journey.  Beginning with surgery the day before Thanksgiving, and now am coming out on the other side of my 4th and final round of AC chemo.  I say coming out on the other side, because there is really no other way to describe what happens between infusion day and the day when you finally feel like you may actually live again each time.  My infusions thus far have all been pretty much the same, for that I can be thankful.  At least I know what's coming, right?  Although some days I'd really rather not know.

So let's talk chemo.  How it goes and the process of how I get to where I am this morning every other fucking week....  As I sit here this morning and think about Monday, I could almost start sobbing at the thought.  But I try not to think too far ahead and just take one day at a time, to concentrate on the week ahead in which I will maybe feel halfway human for at least parts of the days during my "rebound" weeks.  These are the middle weeks in between hell.  I try to go have fun and do as much "normal" stuff these weeks as possible without wearing myself out too much.  Four hours is about my limit however.

Infusion day....  Usually goes something like this.  Wake up at around 3:00 a.m. because my mind is already in full panic and insane mode.  Have a little coffee and some pills to start your chemo week regimen.  Play with the dogs and do any last minute chores.  Because you know for the next 5-7 days you will not feel like doing much of anything at all.  Then shower... because again, a shower for a few days is not a feat that will likely not happen.  Hell you can't even get out of bed at some points.  Then from there you put on your port numbing cream and put some saran wrap over it and tape it down with a couple of band aids.  This cream helps to numb your port.  This way when they go to access it with the needle to put your chemo in it won't sting quite as much.  Bet I only forget that shit ONE time!! LOL  Pack your "chemo" bag with all the crap you think you might need for a few hours of fun (blanket, snacks, ginger chews for nausea, Xanax, etc.) And off you head to the cancer center for your infusion day.

Once you arrive at the cancer center you go to the check in desk and pay your $20.  Yes if you've followed me through my whole journey on this blog, you will chuckle at the $20 reference.  When you are sick, you will go broke $20 at a time! LOL  Then you get your folder and head down to room A.  This is the lab where they draw your blood each time to make sure your counts are high enough to even get your infusion that day.  And yes you always pray they are ok because no one wants this shit delayed any longer than necessary and low counts mean at least a week delay most of the time.  I am 4 down and have been lucky so far my counts have not dropped so low that I had to be delayed.  Once the blood has been drawn you take your little folder and head for room B.  This is where they take your vitals and escort you to see your oncologist before infusion.  He will go over your blood work and just check to see how you are feeling.

Once in the exam room, the anxiety ramps up to about a million, as you know the next step is the infusion room.  Everything is a blur and you really don't hear or see anything that is going on.  You are now in infusion mode.  Because once that shit goes into your body, the next week is nothing short of a living hell I would not wish upon ANYONE!!! And at this point you know that is what is coming next.  Most of the time I want to just run out and say fuck it I'm not doing this any more.  But instead I smile and follow my oncology nurse down the hall to the infusion room.  Because well the only other option is in the ground.  And I'm not ready for that yet either!! haha

What happens next over the next few hours is, most of the time, a blur for me.  Yes I am a pussy and need a little happy juice to get over the anxiety hump.  So you pick a chair of your liking and the next nurse comes over and gets your prepped for your rounds.  First is the prick to the port to get access to your veins.  Then comes the saline flush, followed by steroids, and then the good shit, Adivan.  Oh yeah folks, if you haven't tried it out, it's good LOL  Usually after that I'm a little groggy.  The nurse then brings over the "red devil" (yes it is red) in a tube and puts it into you, followed by the 2nd kind of chemo which drips through the bag. And then before you leave they strap the tic tac box of hell onto your arm. Neulasta.  The sheer word makes me wince and cry.  One tip, if you must do chemo, go in the morning.  They usually have some yummy breakfast choices for you!  haha  My sister always gathers me all the snacks and we have a feast hahaha!  After a few hours you're all done and ready to go home.  Or in my case usually, thanks to the Adivan, carried out, but not before a little chemo dance around the infusion room.  LOL  Yes, the Adivan makes me loopy as a drunk girl on prom night.  We be ready to par te'!  haha

Once at home day one is a blur... thank you Adivan for giving me one day of peace! haha.  Day two is the day of waiting.  Sitting around waiting for the fresh hell I know is about to come on day 3-4.  About 17 hours after infusion the tic tac box of hell beeps and at that moment you know the drugs inside of it are pouring into your body and in about 9 hours you will be sicker than you've ever been in your life.  It is a double edged sword, this drug, as it probably prevents you from having to have a blood transfusion, but man it makes you feel like you are dying for two days.  Once the box empties out, my sister then grabs her gloves and proceeds to remove the box from my arm.  Usually it bleeds a little bit from the needle that had been inserted to distribute the medicine. This medicine makes your bones make bone marrow and regenerate white blood cells at a high rate of speed because the chemo they just gave you is killing them all at a high rate of speed.  Generally speaking at about 4a.m. you wake up with what feels like someone beating the shit out of your entire body in your bones and you're so dizzy you cannot open your eyes and moving at all hurts so bad you just want to cry.  You start pumping the nausea pills and pain pills, but they just barely take the edge off.  And for about 48 hours you do not know where you are or how in the hell you're going to actually live to see the next day.

Luckily come about Friday you start to see the light and feel like you may live again.  You head into the rebound week thinking I'm not going back there.  I'm not doing this again.  Fuck it, I'll just die.  But somehow by the next Monday you're always sitting in that damn chair ready for another week of hell.

This coming Monday I will be starting a new round of chemo.  Different from the last four, and what I've been told, easier.  God I pray that is true. Although the side effects sheet they gave me is enough to scare the shit out of anyone and definitely doesn't sound like it's going to be any easier.  This will be 12 rounds every single Monday, so no rebound week.  Three solid months of pumping poison into my body every week so that I can hopefully live a long and happy life.  I sure hope it's worth it and the cancer stays gone for good this time!  I think that is my greatest fear, that I put myself through all of this only for it to return again.  But I believe this is normal and it is most survivor's greatest fear as well, so I know I am not alone.

So Monday here we go, another step closer in being finished with this part of my journey.  I am 1/4 of the way finished and even though I cannot even begin to see the finish line yet, I am one step closer.  One day at a time.