Round 2 - The Day After

Based on the last chemo, I had planned to rest most of the day after, and that is exactly what I did. I was tired, yes, headachy, yes, somewhat shaky, but it wasn't bad. I sat in the blue chair most of the day and drank tons of water to flush the toxins from my body and keep them from doing any more damage than necessary. I had my raft of "coping chemicals" to help, and gentle foods to nurture my reeling cells. I read a bit, walked Sugar, watched a bit of TV, texted a few friends, and generally had a nice little vacation!

I almost felt guilty having taken the day off, but one thing I have learned about chemo is that you must allow your body the strength and energy to deal with it or you will pay the price. So I don't fret about the inactivity. I refuse to think about the little things that need to be done about the apartment - time will come to take care of it later. I refuse to fuss about outstanding assignments that I should be working on or whether things are running smoothly at work.

Yes, those are important parts of my normal life, but I work with great people who are wonderful about handling things and taking care of business in my absence and not involving me unless it's absolutely necessary. They are kind to cut me so much slack and understand that this is temporary and I will be back as soon as I know its safe to return.

Besides, I have a new wrinkle today. Nothing tastes right. Everything is bland, almost soapy or plasticy tasting. Like I have lost the ability to sense salt flavoring. Yuck. My tongue sports a new white coating, and I try to brush it off with my newly purchased-just-for-chemo-treatment-soft-soft-soft toothbrush, but stuff still tastes funny. Hope this passes soon. I have a vague recollection that one of the drugs might affect your sense of taste.

Well, no matter. Maybe I will lose a bit of weight to counteract the prednisone bloat! Meanwhile, back to snoozing.

Round Two

I carefully packed my new pink bag with my soft cuddly white and pink bubbles blankie, my new soft socks, my dot to dot book, the puzzle, the sudoku book, my iPod, and a novel to read just in case. I tucked a full bottle of fresh water in the pocket, climbed into my soft comfy sweat pants and zippered hoodie, grabbed a royal blue baseball cap and a warm snuggly bright yellow skull cap, and headed out the door at 8:00 AM.

As I climbed out of the car at Wilmot Cancer Center, Kiel said "Try not to die!" I flipped back "Not planning on it. I'll call when I'm ready for the ride home." I stepped through the doors, surprised at how cheerful and peppy I felt. No trace of last night's fear, no sense of being in any compromised state, no sense of impending trouble. My prayer warriors must be working overtime, thank God!

First, I see the both my oncologists - the lymphoma and rectal specialists. I chat with the nurse and hand her my symptom log I had kept to track the progress of the first round. Not bad. Though the immune system levels dipped low, overall, I had done very well and tolerated things fine. They were pleased with my progress, laying to rest my concerns of the night before.

We discuss an antiviral treatment to prevent further mouth sores. I am delighted to find a way to prevent that again. The rest of the symptoms I can deal with - a few headaches, a bit of nausea and tiredness, a bit of hand and foot tingling, some aches and pains. They draw blood from my port, and send me to the Infusion Center.

The process is similar to the first time, except this time they give me only the drugs for the Rituxan first and save the drugs for the chemo for later so they won't wear off. I was happy to discover that I didn't get a headache until they gave me the stuff for the chemo drugs so I didn't have the headache all day. Bonus! I still had some reaction to the Rituxan, so we had to still go slowly and check blood pressure every half hour. I had some trouble with foot tingling again, so they finally gave me IV benadryl which make me nearly pass out, but the feeling passed.

It took the full six hours to do the Rituxan and another hour for the chemos to be administered, plus an hour of saline flushes in between. Meanwhile, this round, I spent the first few hours doing my dot to dots and working on the puzzle while listening to my Hymns Triumphant CD on my iPod. That was uplifting. Then two of my friends came to visit with me. Diane and I caught up on the graduations and proms her kids had, and laughed over pictures. We chatted about stuff, and she taught me a game called Sequence which will be fun to play again. Next time she promised to bring Craniotomy.

Just as she had to go to work, Sherri came and we chatted while I worked through the benadryl issue. We are very excited about getting a new instrument for the church and are planning to go check it out Thursday evening before choir rehearsal. After she had to go for a meeting, I worked on the puzzle, getting the entire border done before I had to pack it in.

Not a bad day, but I felt loggy and full of toxic ammunition which I trust will go to work gently killing off only the bad cells and leaving the good ones alone. Especially I am praying for a cessation of the invasion of the bone cells and the bone marrow issues to reverse.

I will say that when I finally arrived home at 7:30 PM, I was ready for sleeping! One more treatment down - I am a third of the way there. Next time I will be able to say I am half way. That will be a good marker.

Pre-Chemo Jitters

I had been told about pre-chemo nausea - just the thought of having to go to the Infusion Center is enough to set off real feelings of nausea for some cancer patients. They even offer pre-treatment to help people deal with it. I haven't experienced that, but I sure had a bad case of the jitters today.

What set it off was the discussion about my immune system blood levels being so low and my mouth sore not healing very fast. I almost felt like I needed a few more days to get back to some sort of even keel. As I began to realize that each time I get a dose, I will be starting at a lower state of strength with more compromised systems, I began to fear that I wouldn't have enough stamina to get through the entire 6 rounds. If I am already having problems, what will the next one mean for being able to ward off infections and other issues? Even my port hasn't healed the way I would like it to have.

So for a few hours, I was sliding down the hope scale until I remembered that I am still in God's hands, people are praying for me, and nothing had changed except my mindset! How silly to let my fears get so out of whack. Still, it happens. So I concentrated on some Bible verses for awhile, repeating them to remind myself of God's promise never to leave me or forsake me, to be my fortress and strength, to walk through the valley of the shadow of death with me.

I know that tomorrow, he will be with me. I will feel His presence and peace, and know he is guiding the doctors and nurses who are helping me. So for tonight, I will both lay me down and sleep for the Lord is with me.