#16
after i take my pill tonight, i'll be halfway there. 14 down. 14 to go. i feel so bad and so tired today. not as much my feet. just one of those chemo days where i feel like i'm carrying all three of the girls around on my back for hours. i can't really shake it, but i hope going to hannah's soccer game in just a bit will motivate me out of the funk, at least for an hour or so. i'll fake it even if it doesn't.
#16
toxicities present:
the fatigue is the worst factor today.
the stiffness in my neck and shoulders got significantly worse overnight. it may not be a full week before i need some help getting my shirt off. i still haven't gotten any volunteers. be the first in line!
this ulcer in my mouth, man. it'll probably be open and oozing by tomorrow or friday at the latest.
the feet haven't gotten much better since yesterday. but they haven't really worsened either. i'm not going to do any backflips yet. the good news is i should be able to accompany caroline to the zoo tomorrow, no problems. and then the bad day will be friday. but it'll be worth it. she's super stoked.
stomach woke me up early again this morning, but hasn't been much of an issue since. that's nice.
pain (scaled 1-10):
5
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
#17
on the day that my feet took the expected turn for the worse, it seems appropriate to draw the comparison between what i've been suffering with during eight of my nine cycles and what everyone tells me is neuropathy.
now, i've never suffered from neuropathy that i know of. not before my cancer treatments, and, understand, i am not a doctor. but, from what i've read, neuropathy is most often associated with a burning or tingling sensation, the closest equivalent i've heard described is like the feeling we all have endured when one of our extremities comes back to life after falling asleep.
this is not what i've struggled with and muddled through. beginning with our trip to the beach last summer, every cycle has included a several day stretch where certain spots on my feet have peeled, sometimes several layers at a time. this is common side effect of the sutent and many other slow release chemotherapies. most of the time, the heaviest peeling happens during the break, i assume as portions of the medicine are slowly but sure being released from my body through the capillaries in the bottom of my feet. about midway through the following cycle, as the medicine begins to release again, those areas that have peeled become little patches of hell on scorched earth. slowly intensifying in pain from slightly annoying to "shit, bro, i gotta limp" to "holy fuck, i'm going to have to crawl to the shower". at levels two and most especially three, it is not tingling or burning that i am experiencing. it is white hot death to the touch. at its worst, when i pull my foot off the ground, as the blood rushes to the most preciously affected areas, it feels like an invisible gnome with an invisible chain is pulling invisible swords from out of my feet because the invisible gnome needs his swords to slit my throat because OH MY FUCK THIS IS THE MOST INTENSE SHIT EVERRRRR!!! the family or friends or employees that have seen this happen know the expressions the pain forces onto my face and the rest of my body. the pain radiates in such a severe fashion that i've come close to faint on several occasions.
i try to elevate. moisturize. soak. take vitamin b supplements. none of it works. i've come to learn that all that helps is time and patience and not being up on them. that's it. that's the list. i truly appreciate all of the helpful suggestions, the care packages, and the "keep your chin ups" that i've gotten. they've all been so well-intentioned that it's just too heartbreaking to tell the givers that it's not worth it. you can't pretty up a pig with lipstick. and you can't fix my feet with udder cream. not when they are at their worst.
maybe someone will read this and say, "yes, dipshit. this is classic neuropathy." if they say that, fuck them. they probably wanted me to hurt for some reason anyway.
maybe someone else will read this and say that i'm a pussy. if they say that, fuck them. they have no idea. i'll fight them when i'm better.
maybe someone will read this and just think, "man, that sucks. i'm not going to tell him that i spent the most glorious day today walking with no pain." if they say that, that's what i've wanted all along. and i love you.
#17
toxicities present:
the feet thing, obviously.
after wishing for no mouth ulcers, i've got a couple forming below my bottom teeth, front of the mouth. fuck me.
i came home from work, planted myself on the porch and feel like i'm going to need a miracle or the threat of gunfire to move. this is the fatigue.
some muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders that only started bothering me during cycle six has started. in about a week, i am going to need help taking off my shirt. any volunteers?
pain (scaled 1-10):
6.5
on the day that my feet took the expected turn for the worse, it seems appropriate to draw the comparison between what i've been suffering with during eight of my nine cycles and what everyone tells me is neuropathy.
now, i've never suffered from neuropathy that i know of. not before my cancer treatments, and, understand, i am not a doctor. but, from what i've read, neuropathy is most often associated with a burning or tingling sensation, the closest equivalent i've heard described is like the feeling we all have endured when one of our extremities comes back to life after falling asleep.
this is not what i've struggled with and muddled through. beginning with our trip to the beach last summer, every cycle has included a several day stretch where certain spots on my feet have peeled, sometimes several layers at a time. this is common side effect of the sutent and many other slow release chemotherapies. most of the time, the heaviest peeling happens during the break, i assume as portions of the medicine are slowly but sure being released from my body through the capillaries in the bottom of my feet. about midway through the following cycle, as the medicine begins to release again, those areas that have peeled become little patches of hell on scorched earth. slowly intensifying in pain from slightly annoying to "shit, bro, i gotta limp" to "holy fuck, i'm going to have to crawl to the shower". at levels two and most especially three, it is not tingling or burning that i am experiencing. it is white hot death to the touch. at its worst, when i pull my foot off the ground, as the blood rushes to the most preciously affected areas, it feels like an invisible gnome with an invisible chain is pulling invisible swords from out of my feet because the invisible gnome needs his swords to slit my throat because OH MY FUCK THIS IS THE MOST INTENSE SHIT EVERRRRR!!! the family or friends or employees that have seen this happen know the expressions the pain forces onto my face and the rest of my body. the pain radiates in such a severe fashion that i've come close to faint on several occasions.
i try to elevate. moisturize. soak. take vitamin b supplements. none of it works. i've come to learn that all that helps is time and patience and not being up on them. that's it. that's the list. i truly appreciate all of the helpful suggestions, the care packages, and the "keep your chin ups" that i've gotten. they've all been so well-intentioned that it's just too heartbreaking to tell the givers that it's not worth it. you can't pretty up a pig with lipstick. and you can't fix my feet with udder cream. not when they are at their worst.
maybe someone will read this and say, "yes, dipshit. this is classic neuropathy." if they say that, fuck them. they probably wanted me to hurt for some reason anyway.
maybe someone else will read this and say that i'm a pussy. if they say that, fuck them. they have no idea. i'll fight them when i'm better.
maybe someone will read this and just think, "man, that sucks. i'm not going to tell him that i spent the most glorious day today walking with no pain." if they say that, that's what i've wanted all along. and i love you.
#17
toxicities present:
the feet thing, obviously.
after wishing for no mouth ulcers, i've got a couple forming below my bottom teeth, front of the mouth. fuck me.
i came home from work, planted myself on the porch and feel like i'm going to need a miracle or the threat of gunfire to move. this is the fatigue.
some muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders that only started bothering me during cycle six has started. in about a week, i am going to need help taking off my shirt. any volunteers?
pain (scaled 1-10):
6.5
Sunday, April 28, 2013
#18
not every day on chemo is terrible. if it was, i would have found a way to quit. well, maybe not. i would have tried to talk my way into quitting.
the better days are like a good golf shot by a hack like me that never plays the game. that one good shot out of the 115 i may hit in a given round is enough to make me thing i could ever be good at golf. that one better than terrible day on chemo is enough to make me believe that tomorrow won't be terrible either. i'm experienced enough to know that i am fooling myself now.
i'm happy to go to bed fooling myself tonight.
toxicities present:
hobbled around pretty bad for a large portion of the day, but, after being off my feet for most of the evening, the pain is tolerable as i type this.
still can't taste. that part isn't going to change until late may. my only hope now is that ulcers don't form to make matters worse.
stomach was still pretty crampy today, but better than yesterday.
no significant reflux today.
fatigue is still hitting pretty hard around 3:00 every afternoon. but you think i'm a little bitch when i whine about fatigue. i just know it.
pain (scaled 1-10):
4
not every day on chemo is terrible. if it was, i would have found a way to quit. well, maybe not. i would have tried to talk my way into quitting.
the better days are like a good golf shot by a hack like me that never plays the game. that one good shot out of the 115 i may hit in a given round is enough to make me thing i could ever be good at golf. that one better than terrible day on chemo is enough to make me believe that tomorrow won't be terrible either. i'm experienced enough to know that i am fooling myself now.
i'm happy to go to bed fooling myself tonight.
toxicities present:
hobbled around pretty bad for a large portion of the day, but, after being off my feet for most of the evening, the pain is tolerable as i type this.
still can't taste. that part isn't going to change until late may. my only hope now is that ulcers don't form to make matters worse.
stomach was still pretty crampy today, but better than yesterday.
no significant reflux today.
fatigue is still hitting pretty hard around 3:00 every afternoon. but you think i'm a little bitch when i whine about fatigue. i just know it.
pain (scaled 1-10):
4
Saturday, April 27, 2013
#19
i had a solid poop today. my first since sunday. so, there's a highlight.
#19
toxicities present:
feet: my right foot seems to be trying to catch up with my left now. in the middle of my right foot, just beneath my toes, something is getting angry. both feet feel bruised at this point, like someone has spent several hours beating them with a ping-pong paddle.
mouth: goddamn my mouth, man. hannah picked zaxby's after her first soccer game for lunch and as i was getting ready to head to the store, i stole a fry from her, dipped it in ranch and ate it like i was always meant to. the ranch tasted like spoiled milk. hannah seemed fine with it, so i am guessing the ranch was fine. i'll steer clear from ranch from this point forward.
stomach: not as loose-y goose-y as the last five days, but i''m cramping like a motherfucker. probably more a product of my system being completely empty followed the reintroduction of food, but shit.
fatigue: still there. you still wouldn't know it. so, i won't bitch too much lest you think i'm a wanker.
reflux: my only meal today was chinese buffet carryout. this one is probably on me.
pain (scaled 1-10)
5.5
i had a solid poop today. my first since sunday. so, there's a highlight.
#19
toxicities present:
feet: my right foot seems to be trying to catch up with my left now. in the middle of my right foot, just beneath my toes, something is getting angry. both feet feel bruised at this point, like someone has spent several hours beating them with a ping-pong paddle.
mouth: goddamn my mouth, man. hannah picked zaxby's after her first soccer game for lunch and as i was getting ready to head to the store, i stole a fry from her, dipped it in ranch and ate it like i was always meant to. the ranch tasted like spoiled milk. hannah seemed fine with it, so i am guessing the ranch was fine. i'll steer clear from ranch from this point forward.
stomach: not as loose-y goose-y as the last five days, but i''m cramping like a motherfucker. probably more a product of my system being completely empty followed the reintroduction of food, but shit.
fatigue: still there. you still wouldn't know it. so, i won't bitch too much lest you think i'm a wanker.
reflux: my only meal today was chinese buffet carryout. this one is probably on me.
pain (scaled 1-10)
5.5
Friday, April 26, 2013
#20
"nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity."
voltaire had it right.
i mean, really. think of the act of eating. it's ridiculous. we sit down at a table. shove shit in our mouth. chew it. taste it. destroy that meat or vegetable or fruit into mush in our mouth. swallow the paste-y mish-mash down on our necks. we kill hours on end that we could be reading a book. working on the yard. watching television. playing with the kids. scrolling around on facebook or twitter and getting pissed at people that are "all about" that sweet baby jesus but only post shit about politicians that don't make the choices they agree with and hate on gay people. maybe i am being dramatic. but you get my point. eating, the act of eating is a big waste of time.
except, if we don't do it, we'll likely die.
that, and eating things we discover we like is fucking fantastic.
in the last couple of months, the new thing on facebook seems to be posting super-fucking close-ups of some dish or dessert and then have people slobber about how how great it looks. i'm fairly confident that if i took a super-fucking close-up of a 14 year old burger from mcdonald's it would look like an orgasm. so, really, just pull back the camera, remember that it's just food and go exercise. do a sit up. walk around the block. stop slobbering over food like it's the only thing in life you enjoy.
i'm jealous, really.
my mind still knows exactly what things are supposed to taste like. so, when my body tells me i'm hungry, things still sound good. and then i put them in my mouth. and then they are a watered down, cardboard-y metal tasting version of themselves.
tonight, i went to one of my favorite places on earth, rock 'n roll sushi. my sushi was barely alright, although the tiniest little spice in one of the rolls lit my mouth up like i was taking on the habanero challenge.
my mouth has fully turned now. nothing tastes right. my mouth burns at the silliest fucking sensations. it hurts to brush my teeth. to drink a coke. to chew a chip.
nothing about eating is fun.
so, if i call you fat in my head when you post that juicy picture of a fish taco or that oreo/quadruple chocolate/topped with liquid sex dessert dish tomorrow, it's not personal. it's not you. it's me.
i just want to taste my food again. and i won't be able to for another three weeks.
cry me a river, right?
again, in the grand scheme of things, it's no biggie. still sucks.
#20
toxicities present:
the mouth thing is getting bad. no ulcers. but it's getting bad.
laying down on my ass all day yesterday has stemmed the tide of flames that is the bottom of my feet. we'll see how they respond from being back up and about today tomorrow.
stomach. while i've been able to keep food down today, it's never great to sit down to go number two and it sounds like you're going number one. that and the cramping from having nothing in my system in pretty uncomfortable.
pain (scaled 1-10):
4
"nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity."
voltaire had it right.
i mean, really. think of the act of eating. it's ridiculous. we sit down at a table. shove shit in our mouth. chew it. taste it. destroy that meat or vegetable or fruit into mush in our mouth. swallow the paste-y mish-mash down on our necks. we kill hours on end that we could be reading a book. working on the yard. watching television. playing with the kids. scrolling around on facebook or twitter and getting pissed at people that are "all about" that sweet baby jesus but only post shit about politicians that don't make the choices they agree with and hate on gay people. maybe i am being dramatic. but you get my point. eating, the act of eating is a big waste of time.
except, if we don't do it, we'll likely die.
that, and eating things we discover we like is fucking fantastic.
in the last couple of months, the new thing on facebook seems to be posting super-fucking close-ups of some dish or dessert and then have people slobber about how how great it looks. i'm fairly confident that if i took a super-fucking close-up of a 14 year old burger from mcdonald's it would look like an orgasm. so, really, just pull back the camera, remember that it's just food and go exercise. do a sit up. walk around the block. stop slobbering over food like it's the only thing in life you enjoy.
i'm jealous, really.
my mind still knows exactly what things are supposed to taste like. so, when my body tells me i'm hungry, things still sound good. and then i put them in my mouth. and then they are a watered down, cardboard-y metal tasting version of themselves.
tonight, i went to one of my favorite places on earth, rock 'n roll sushi. my sushi was barely alright, although the tiniest little spice in one of the rolls lit my mouth up like i was taking on the habanero challenge.
my mouth has fully turned now. nothing tastes right. my mouth burns at the silliest fucking sensations. it hurts to brush my teeth. to drink a coke. to chew a chip.
nothing about eating is fun.
so, if i call you fat in my head when you post that juicy picture of a fish taco or that oreo/quadruple chocolate/topped with liquid sex dessert dish tomorrow, it's not personal. it's not you. it's me.
i just want to taste my food again. and i won't be able to for another three weeks.
cry me a river, right?
again, in the grand scheme of things, it's no biggie. still sucks.
#20
toxicities present:
the mouth thing is getting bad. no ulcers. but it's getting bad.
laying down on my ass all day yesterday has stemmed the tide of flames that is the bottom of my feet. we'll see how they respond from being back up and about today tomorrow.
stomach. while i've been able to keep food down today, it's never great to sit down to go number two and it sounds like you're going number one. that and the cramping from having nothing in my system in pretty uncomfortable.
pain (scaled 1-10):
4
Thursday, April 25, 2013
#21
i woke up thirty minutes before my alarm was due to go off this morning, around 5:15. i had a knot in my chest that didn't feel normal. sarah asked what was wrong and i told her that i felt like i was going to die.
i got up, used the bathroom and laid back down. i stared at the ceiling dwelling on the pain in my chest. my alarm went off at 5:49. i got up, got in the shower. i helped caroline get ready for her boosterthon (which she totally scored at), and started to realize the pain in my chest was just a more intense feeling of nausea than i've been used to. i stared at the bathroom, and thought about sticking my finger down my throat, but i left and headed to the store hoping it all would pass.
i got to the store around 6:40, went to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, pulled the trash can in front of me, and i threw up.
my co-manager called for other reasons as i was recovering from the first episode, and god bless her, she said she'd come in early to cover the store for me.
then i threw up again.
then i threw up again.
i was able to make it to the house, change out of my work clothes, laid down on the couch. then it hit me again.
then ithrew up dry heaved again.
i continued to deliver water babies on and off the rest of the day, but the heaving stopped around 10:30.
so, how was your day?
fuck this cancer shit.
#21
toxicities present:
i've experienced annoying to intense nausea during every one of my nine cycles. today is only the second day, though, that i've thrown up for hours on end. to be honest, i don't know if the throwing up today was the chemo, some virus, something food related, or some virus/something food related that bit me because of the chemo. irregardless, it happened. and it seems very unfair.
pain (scaled 1-10):
the pain scale. doing this for a week now has reminded me how difficult is it to answer the question, "how are you feeling?" like i was telling andy at church last night, everyone has experienced (minus maybe the feet) some of what i deal with as a result of the chemo at some point in their life. maybe many points. i try not to take that lightly, nor do i try to make my sufferings seem any more painful or paralyzing as what any typical person goes through on any typical day. we all have our shit that we have to deal with.
so, when i am asked how i am doing, i typically just say, "i'm doing fine." only to a couple/three people will i actually be honest, because, hell, relative to others that have it worse to me, i am, in fact, fine.
people understand pain, though. if my feet are making me limp, people can see that and they don't have to ask. hence, the pain scale.
today? my feet don't hurt because i've been laying down all day. my mouth isn't bothering me because i haven't eaten since 6:00 last evening (my own unsolicited 30 hour famine. does this count, andy?). my head hurts because i'm dehydrated, but i am not really in pain.
today sucked anyway.
i woke up thirty minutes before my alarm was due to go off this morning, around 5:15. i had a knot in my chest that didn't feel normal. sarah asked what was wrong and i told her that i felt like i was going to die.
i got up, used the bathroom and laid back down. i stared at the ceiling dwelling on the pain in my chest. my alarm went off at 5:49. i got up, got in the shower. i helped caroline get ready for her boosterthon (which she totally scored at), and started to realize the pain in my chest was just a more intense feeling of nausea than i've been used to. i stared at the bathroom, and thought about sticking my finger down my throat, but i left and headed to the store hoping it all would pass.
i got to the store around 6:40, went to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, pulled the trash can in front of me, and i threw up.
my co-manager called for other reasons as i was recovering from the first episode, and god bless her, she said she'd come in early to cover the store for me.
then i threw up again.
then i threw up again.
i was able to make it to the house, change out of my work clothes, laid down on the couch. then it hit me again.
then i
i continued to deliver water babies on and off the rest of the day, but the heaving stopped around 10:30.
so, how was your day?
fuck this cancer shit.
#21
toxicities present:
i've experienced annoying to intense nausea during every one of my nine cycles. today is only the second day, though, that i've thrown up for hours on end. to be honest, i don't know if the throwing up today was the chemo, some virus, something food related, or some virus/something food related that bit me because of the chemo. irregardless, it happened. and it seems very unfair.
pain (scaled 1-10):
the pain scale. doing this for a week now has reminded me how difficult is it to answer the question, "how are you feeling?" like i was telling andy at church last night, everyone has experienced (minus maybe the feet) some of what i deal with as a result of the chemo at some point in their life. maybe many points. i try not to take that lightly, nor do i try to make my sufferings seem any more painful or paralyzing as what any typical person goes through on any typical day. we all have our shit that we have to deal with.
so, when i am asked how i am doing, i typically just say, "i'm doing fine." only to a couple/three people will i actually be honest, because, hell, relative to others that have it worse to me, i am, in fact, fine.
people understand pain, though. if my feet are making me limp, people can see that and they don't have to ask. hence, the pain scale.
today? my feet don't hurt because i've been laying down all day. my mouth isn't bothering me because i haven't eaten since 6:00 last evening (my own unsolicited 30 hour famine. does this count, andy?). my head hurts because i'm dehydrated, but i am not really in pain.
today sucked anyway.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
#22
i feel shitty today.
my heel is hurting. i'll have more tomorrow on how my experience is different than neuropathy. my stomach has been messed up and the fatigue has hit hard today.
now the fatigue. how much of a pussy does it make a grown man sound like when he says that he's suffering from intense "fatigue"? a huge pussy. i get it. i hate saying it. but there's not a more appropriate word. here's the best way i can put it. we all have taken mid-afternoon naps and been shaken from it before the nap gets totally out of us, right? half-fog, half-paralyzed, half-your body feels like you're wearing a 50 lb. weight vest, all-pissed off. you just want to keep laying down, because you can't motivate yourself to even think of doing anything else. it's not even that you want to go back to sleep, because that doesn't seem like the cure for what ails you either. it's not that you're sleepy. it's just that your body isn't fully awake, and it doesn't want to be. that's the "fatigue" that i've been told by my oncologist is the most intense and consistent side effect of the sutent. when he first told me to look out for it, i shrugged it off. i thought to myself, most people on this drug are 30 years older than me. i'm young. relatively fit. i sleep okay. i'm not going to suffer from this very vague "fatigue" you're telling me about. as usual, i was wrong. i can wake up in the morning and feel completely refreshed. most of the morning i will feel equally spry. same through lunch. sometime mid-afternoon, it's like a switch goes off, and it's all i can do to get off the stool in the office. it doesn't happen every day, which is almost as equally frustrating, but when it does, like today, it hits hard and fast. and i'm ruined for most of the rest of the evening.
fuck this cancer shit.
#22
toxicities present:
the fatigue
the feet
the mouth continues to deteriorate
the stomach has delivered waterbabies thrice today
pain (scaled 1-10):
4
i feel shitty today.
my heel is hurting. i'll have more tomorrow on how my experience is different than neuropathy. my stomach has been messed up and the fatigue has hit hard today.
now the fatigue. how much of a pussy does it make a grown man sound like when he says that he's suffering from intense "fatigue"? a huge pussy. i get it. i hate saying it. but there's not a more appropriate word. here's the best way i can put it. we all have taken mid-afternoon naps and been shaken from it before the nap gets totally out of us, right? half-fog, half-paralyzed, half-your body feels like you're wearing a 50 lb. weight vest, all-pissed off. you just want to keep laying down, because you can't motivate yourself to even think of doing anything else. it's not even that you want to go back to sleep, because that doesn't seem like the cure for what ails you either. it's not that you're sleepy. it's just that your body isn't fully awake, and it doesn't want to be. that's the "fatigue" that i've been told by my oncologist is the most intense and consistent side effect of the sutent. when he first told me to look out for it, i shrugged it off. i thought to myself, most people on this drug are 30 years older than me. i'm young. relatively fit. i sleep okay. i'm not going to suffer from this very vague "fatigue" you're telling me about. as usual, i was wrong. i can wake up in the morning and feel completely refreshed. most of the morning i will feel equally spry. same through lunch. sometime mid-afternoon, it's like a switch goes off, and it's all i can do to get off the stool in the office. it doesn't happen every day, which is almost as equally frustrating, but when it does, like today, it hits hard and fast. and i'm ruined for most of the rest of the evening.
fuck this cancer shit.
#22
toxicities present:
the fatigue
the feet
the mouth continues to deteriorate
the stomach has delivered waterbabies thrice today
pain (scaled 1-10):
4
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
#23
there comes a point early in every cycle where i've whispered to myself, "maybe this one isn't going to be so bad". inevitably, the next day all hell breaks loose and i end my night crying myself to sleep.
today, it seems, would be that day. there's no use worrying about whether or not i am going to jinx myself. jinxes and reverse-jinxes only work in the world of sports. not in the world of chemo. this shit is poison. i know this now. as i hope it's re-educating bad cells (if there are any left) to not do bad things, it is introducing itself to the good cells, too, and wiping them out as well. the poison can't help itself. it does what it does. and it is doing its job. hopefully, the long-range benefits will far outweigh the short term inconveniences. if not, i am going to be one pissed off motherfucker. i'll also have cancer, and that will be worse.
today, i woke up and i felt pretty good. i had a normal bowel movement, which, if you've read the last couple of installments, is cause for celebration in and of itself. gross, but true. seriously, if you get anything out of reading these journals, you should totally not take it for granted when your poop is normal.
i had very little for brunch, so i don't anticipate the reflux being nearly the issue it was yesterday. watch me say that, and my heart will likely attempt to leap out of my mouth sometime during hannah's soccer practice.
my feet still have angry spots, for sure, and they will get worse as soon as they finish peeling, but they are in spots that i can dodge if i'm really thinking about how i am stepping. thinking about how you are stepping is a really funny thing. it's almost like thinking about trying to swallow. have you ever had an intensely sore throat before and tried really hard to direct food or spit down one side of your mouth so it doesn't feel like you have razorblades coating the inside of your neck only to realize that if you are thinking about swallowing, it's really fucking hard to swallow? i do that shit all the time. i'll try and think about swallowing and my whole body seizes up, and, all of a sudden, not only can't i swallow but i momentarily forget how to breathe too. i start to panic, my body instinctively takes over and i get past it all, but, in the moment, it terrifying. thinking about my gait works in similar fashion. in my head i try and keep count. step, ball, heel. step, ball, heel. step, ball, heel. then, some jackass employee (not really...they are just doing their job) will call me over the intercom and i fuck up and step on my angry heel first. my body reacts like omar from the wire just shot me in the kneecap and i've literally crumpled to the store floor like a folding chair. all because, once you are no longer a baby, you are not supposed to think about how to walk anymore. oh well, chemo problems.
as i sit out on my porch on this picture perfect tuesday afternoon banging out this entry, i can honestly say that i don't feel terrible.
that's a good thing.
#23
toxicities present:
a couple of the foot spots are turning a weird shade of purple, because that's what they do before they start to ramp up to the worst pain.
my mouth continues to dry out and i am starting to lose flavor. the inside of my lips burned last night when i was brushing my teeth. please no ulcers. please no ulcers.
hemorrhoids: i think i have two new ones. not severely painful just yet, but they are bleeding their little hearts out when they have a chance. thank god for clotting or i would have bled out in cycle three.
pain (scaled 1-10):
2
there comes a point early in every cycle where i've whispered to myself, "maybe this one isn't going to be so bad". inevitably, the next day all hell breaks loose and i end my night crying myself to sleep.
today, it seems, would be that day. there's no use worrying about whether or not i am going to jinx myself. jinxes and reverse-jinxes only work in the world of sports. not in the world of chemo. this shit is poison. i know this now. as i hope it's re-educating bad cells (if there are any left) to not do bad things, it is introducing itself to the good cells, too, and wiping them out as well. the poison can't help itself. it does what it does. and it is doing its job. hopefully, the long-range benefits will far outweigh the short term inconveniences. if not, i am going to be one pissed off motherfucker. i'll also have cancer, and that will be worse.
today, i woke up and i felt pretty good. i had a normal bowel movement, which, if you've read the last couple of installments, is cause for celebration in and of itself. gross, but true. seriously, if you get anything out of reading these journals, you should totally not take it for granted when your poop is normal.
i had very little for brunch, so i don't anticipate the reflux being nearly the issue it was yesterday. watch me say that, and my heart will likely attempt to leap out of my mouth sometime during hannah's soccer practice.
my feet still have angry spots, for sure, and they will get worse as soon as they finish peeling, but they are in spots that i can dodge if i'm really thinking about how i am stepping. thinking about how you are stepping is a really funny thing. it's almost like thinking about trying to swallow. have you ever had an intensely sore throat before and tried really hard to direct food or spit down one side of your mouth so it doesn't feel like you have razorblades coating the inside of your neck only to realize that if you are thinking about swallowing, it's really fucking hard to swallow? i do that shit all the time. i'll try and think about swallowing and my whole body seizes up, and, all of a sudden, not only can't i swallow but i momentarily forget how to breathe too. i start to panic, my body instinctively takes over and i get past it all, but, in the moment, it terrifying. thinking about my gait works in similar fashion. in my head i try and keep count. step, ball, heel. step, ball, heel. step, ball, heel. then, some jackass employee (not really...they are just doing their job) will call me over the intercom and i fuck up and step on my angry heel first. my body reacts like omar from the wire just shot me in the kneecap and i've literally crumpled to the store floor like a folding chair. all because, once you are no longer a baby, you are not supposed to think about how to walk anymore. oh well, chemo problems.
as i sit out on my porch on this picture perfect tuesday afternoon banging out this entry, i can honestly say that i don't feel terrible.
that's a good thing.
#23
toxicities present:
a couple of the foot spots are turning a weird shade of purple, because that's what they do before they start to ramp up to the worst pain.
my mouth continues to dry out and i am starting to lose flavor. the inside of my lips burned last night when i was brushing my teeth. please no ulcers. please no ulcers.
hemorrhoids: i think i have two new ones. not severely painful just yet, but they are bleeding their little hearts out when they have a chance. thank god for clotting or i would have bled out in cycle three.
pain (scaled 1-10):
2
Monday, April 22, 2013
#24
chemo stomach, for me, is a funny and fickle beast. i woke up this morning and felt relatively normal. my left heel didn't start the day any worse than yesterday, so i was able to enjoy my shower. got caroline ready for her trip to children's theater, told everyone good-bye and made it to the store no problem. then between 6:45 and 7:30, i hurried to the bathroom to deliver waterbabies twice. between 8:30 and 9:30, i went two more times. i downed75 2 imodium to stem the tide and things started to regulate. by 11:00, i felt frisky enough try some chinese buffet carryout for lunch and, what do you know, i didn't have to do anything more than number one until later in the afternoon!
the moral of this story and every day minus the very worst ones is that at some point a human's stomach says, "okay. okay. gee-zus. enough is enough." and takes a break. the very worst ones i'll explain in more detail when they happen in a week or so, but, for today, enjoy that one relaxing trip to the loo if you're lucky enough to only have one, because it could be waterbabies all day and all night if you're unlucky or on chemo.
#24
toxicities present:
chemo stomach. this is a terribly vague descriptor of what is actually happening inside me. outside of the violent delivery of those oh-so-premature waterbabies, i imagine i have a much better understanding of the cramping that goes along with the female menstrual cycle thanks to my treatment. sometimes, things lock up in my midsection in a way that just buckles me. other times, it's more a constant muscle tightness that i can't stretch out even though it feels like if i could stretch just a liiiittle farther one way or another, i'd experience some relief.
today, the reflux and the nausea were intense for a few hours this afternoon. i told those symptoms to fuck off and i exercised anyway.
the feet are still a few days away from the their worst, but i am trying to avoid putting too much pressure on the left heel as much as i can.
my mouth starting drying out this afternoon. 24-48 hours from now, my taste buds will change, and nothing will taste right for through 7-10 days after i come off the medicine again. the severity of the mouth ulcers and sensitivity has been all over the map from cycle to cycle. we'll see what happens.
pain (scaled 1-10):
feet - 3
stomach related - 5
chemo stomach, for me, is a funny and fickle beast. i woke up this morning and felt relatively normal. my left heel didn't start the day any worse than yesterday, so i was able to enjoy my shower. got caroline ready for her trip to children's theater, told everyone good-bye and made it to the store no problem. then between 6:45 and 7:30, i hurried to the bathroom to deliver waterbabies twice. between 8:30 and 9:30, i went two more times. i downed
the moral of this story and every day minus the very worst ones is that at some point a human's stomach says, "okay. okay. gee-zus. enough is enough." and takes a break. the very worst ones i'll explain in more detail when they happen in a week or so, but, for today, enjoy that one relaxing trip to the loo if you're lucky enough to only have one, because it could be waterbabies all day and all night if you're unlucky or on chemo.
#24
toxicities present:
chemo stomach. this is a terribly vague descriptor of what is actually happening inside me. outside of the violent delivery of those oh-so-premature waterbabies, i imagine i have a much better understanding of the cramping that goes along with the female menstrual cycle thanks to my treatment. sometimes, things lock up in my midsection in a way that just buckles me. other times, it's more a constant muscle tightness that i can't stretch out even though it feels like if i could stretch just a liiiittle farther one way or another, i'd experience some relief.
today, the reflux and the nausea were intense for a few hours this afternoon. i told those symptoms to fuck off and i exercised anyway.
the feet are still a few days away from the their worst, but i am trying to avoid putting too much pressure on the left heel as much as i can.
my mouth starting drying out this afternoon. 24-48 hours from now, my taste buds will change, and nothing will taste right for through 7-10 days after i come off the medicine again. the severity of the mouth ulcers and sensitivity has been all over the map from cycle to cycle. we'll see what happens.
pain (scaled 1-10):
feet - 3
stomach related - 5
Sunday, April 21, 2013
#25
a calm before the storm kind of day.
toxicities present:
i woke up this morning and the left heel felt worse than it did yesterday. i limped around this morning on the ball of that foot, but, thankfully, it didn't get worse through the day.
last night after i had posted #26, the first wind of uncomfortable reflux hit me at the store and continued 'til i was able to fall asleep. i take prescription zantac every evening along with the chemo to prevent the reflux overnight, but i may have to start taking one during day, too. my motus operandi throughout the whole treatment program has been "the less in addition to the chemo the better", but some of that stubbornness has probably led to more discomfort than necessary. i don't know that i'll mess with the program too much, but feeling like my heart is making its way up my throat is...unpleasant. if i can prevent that feeling, i probably should.
stomach started off unruly this morning, but waned as the day progressed. that was nice.
for the first time this cycle, i felt the wave of fatigue hit me around 3:00 this afternoon. felt like i was wearing a weighted vest most of the afternoon and felt like i was shaking off a nap for the same amount of time. not terribly inhibiting, but it's usually a harbinger or worse things to come.
pain (scaled 1-10):
3. inching up. inching up.
a calm before the storm kind of day.
toxicities present:
i woke up this morning and the left heel felt worse than it did yesterday. i limped around this morning on the ball of that foot, but, thankfully, it didn't get worse through the day.
last night after i had posted #26, the first wind of uncomfortable reflux hit me at the store and continued 'til i was able to fall asleep. i take prescription zantac every evening along with the chemo to prevent the reflux overnight, but i may have to start taking one during day, too. my motus operandi throughout the whole treatment program has been "the less in addition to the chemo the better", but some of that stubbornness has probably led to more discomfort than necessary. i don't know that i'll mess with the program too much, but feeling like my heart is making its way up my throat is...unpleasant. if i can prevent that feeling, i probably should.
stomach started off unruly this morning, but waned as the day progressed. that was nice.
for the first time this cycle, i felt the wave of fatigue hit me around 3:00 this afternoon. felt like i was wearing a weighted vest most of the afternoon and felt like i was shaking off a nap for the same amount of time. not terribly inhibiting, but it's usually a harbinger or worse things to come.
pain (scaled 1-10):
3. inching up. inching up.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
#26
http://www.cancer.net/all-about-cancer/treating-cancer/managing-side-effects/hand-foot-syndrome-or-palmar-plantar-erythrodysesthesia
the above link, which isn't really that interesting if you're not on chemo, does a nice job of detailing one of my more serious and consistent side effects, my hand/foot syndrome.
this morning after I got out of the shower, i took and posted a couple of nasty pictures on facebook of the bottoms of my two feet. if you were unlucky enough to see them, you were probably all like, "what the fuck is this on my feed?", but i needed to put them there to document what i hope is the last time i'll have to deal with this shit.
if you saw the pictures, you'll notice that the left foot, specifically the heel, is waiting to give me the most trouble in the next couple of days. this morning, i woke up and could feel the sensitivity coming. i had to be careful walking around the house with only socks on. if i stepped too flush on the hardwood or the sculpted carpet, it would have sent a sharp, shooting pain up my left leg.
when i've worked out over the last nine months, i've had to stand on a folded up, soft blanket while doing my curls and my military presses so that i have a few inches between the bottoms of my feet and the ground. i can still feel anywhere from a dull sting to a piercing pain while i'm exercising, but i've been too stubborn to completely give it up. everyone that reads this blog knows how fat-phobic i am. my feet have kept me from running for almost ten months now. i've absolutely refused to stop doing what i can to burn a calorie here and there and stay in some semblance of shape.
my feet are going to get worse over the next several days. i hope that they cycle in a similar fashion as they have in the last couple months, where i'll only have two or three days where walking is nearly impossible, and then they ease up a little for me.
#26
toxicities present:
i've mentioned and showed you the feet on facebook. today was the beginning of the bad. my stomach is slowly turning into a boiling cauldron of hate. as soon as food hits the bottom, it is mixed up and spit through in haste, teasing me on its way out to think that i ever had any chance for part of it to stick to my bones.
pain (scaled 1-10):
2.5 - i am still fine with shoes on. and when i'm not in the bathroom. i can tell i am on chemo again.
and chemo is a helluva drug.
http://www.cancer.net/all-about-cancer/treating-cancer/managing-side-effects/hand-foot-syndrome-or-palmar-plantar-erythrodysesthesia
the above link, which isn't really that interesting if you're not on chemo, does a nice job of detailing one of my more serious and consistent side effects, my hand/foot syndrome.
this morning after I got out of the shower, i took and posted a couple of nasty pictures on facebook of the bottoms of my two feet. if you were unlucky enough to see them, you were probably all like, "what the fuck is this on my feed?", but i needed to put them there to document what i hope is the last time i'll have to deal with this shit.
if you saw the pictures, you'll notice that the left foot, specifically the heel, is waiting to give me the most trouble in the next couple of days. this morning, i woke up and could feel the sensitivity coming. i had to be careful walking around the house with only socks on. if i stepped too flush on the hardwood or the sculpted carpet, it would have sent a sharp, shooting pain up my left leg.
when i've worked out over the last nine months, i've had to stand on a folded up, soft blanket while doing my curls and my military presses so that i have a few inches between the bottoms of my feet and the ground. i can still feel anywhere from a dull sting to a piercing pain while i'm exercising, but i've been too stubborn to completely give it up. everyone that reads this blog knows how fat-phobic i am. my feet have kept me from running for almost ten months now. i've absolutely refused to stop doing what i can to burn a calorie here and there and stay in some semblance of shape.
my feet are going to get worse over the next several days. i hope that they cycle in a similar fashion as they have in the last couple months, where i'll only have two or three days where walking is nearly impossible, and then they ease up a little for me.
#26
toxicities present:
i've mentioned and showed you the feet on facebook. today was the beginning of the bad. my stomach is slowly turning into a boiling cauldron of hate. as soon as food hits the bottom, it is mixed up and spit through in haste, teasing me on its way out to think that i ever had any chance for part of it to stick to my bones.
pain (scaled 1-10):
2.5 - i am still fine with shoes on. and when i'm not in the bathroom. i can tell i am on chemo again.
and chemo is a helluva drug.
Friday, April 19, 2013
#27
i'd say the waiting for the worst of the toxicities is the hardest part, but that's not really true. the waiting sucks, for sure, but i'd rather wait and be anxious than be in pain.
the part of the waiting that is harder now than in the beginning of the treatment program is that i know there is a pot of agony waiting for me over the rainbow.
"it may end up being just like taking an aspirin."
there are several things that my urologist has said since july of 2009 that he'd probably take back if he had the chance now. during the first couple of cycles, though, i trusted these words that he shared with me during my last office visit with him before i got shuffled off and referred down to my oncologist at uab. in my head, it kind of made sense. i was "just taking a pill". surely it wouldn't be as bad as all the horror stories i had heard about infusion and/or radiation, right? the pill would be more slow-release. my body would have time to readjust and recalibrate as the levels of poison rose in my body. my insides would allow the sutent to kill the bad stuff and leave the rest of my body alone.
god, i had no idea what i was talking about.
nowadays, i know what is coming. it's a matter of when and not if.
#27
toxicities present:
not much yet. a few spots on the bottom of my feet started getting just a tad sensitive this afternoon. several spots on both feet peeled significantly over the break. when the pain comes, it's going to be bad. not today, though, so that's nice.
so long, solid stools! the quickest normal to change over to abnormal is always my stomach. i haven't started delivering water-babies every time i'm in the bathroom yet, but it's coming in the next 48 hours. we're right on schedule.
pain (scaled 1-10):
1 - i'm okay today.
i'd say the waiting for the worst of the toxicities is the hardest part, but that's not really true. the waiting sucks, for sure, but i'd rather wait and be anxious than be in pain.
the part of the waiting that is harder now than in the beginning of the treatment program is that i know there is a pot of agony waiting for me over the rainbow.
"it may end up being just like taking an aspirin."
there are several things that my urologist has said since july of 2009 that he'd probably take back if he had the chance now. during the first couple of cycles, though, i trusted these words that he shared with me during my last office visit with him before i got shuffled off and referred down to my oncologist at uab. in my head, it kind of made sense. i was "just taking a pill". surely it wouldn't be as bad as all the horror stories i had heard about infusion and/or radiation, right? the pill would be more slow-release. my body would have time to readjust and recalibrate as the levels of poison rose in my body. my insides would allow the sutent to kill the bad stuff and leave the rest of my body alone.
god, i had no idea what i was talking about.
nowadays, i know what is coming. it's a matter of when and not if.
#27
toxicities present:
not much yet. a few spots on the bottom of my feet started getting just a tad sensitive this afternoon. several spots on both feet peeled significantly over the break. when the pain comes, it's going to be bad. not today, though, so that's nice.
so long, solid stools! the quickest normal to change over to abnormal is always my stomach. i haven't started delivering water-babies every time i'm in the bathroom yet, but it's coming in the next 48 hours. we're right on schedule.
pain (scaled 1-10):
1 - i'm okay today.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
#28
(a running diary of my (hopefully) last 28 days of chemo)
tuesday, i previewed this next running series of the blog. over the next 28 days, i'll give you and you and you a running look into the life of kevin o'kelley, chemo patient.
as a disclaimer, when the days get bad, the language will probably follow and some of the imagery will likely be graphic and unsettling, but, for me, it seems appropriate to track what i hope will be the last arduous month of this pain-staking year long treatment program with honest and clear language. it also wouldn't really be very kevin o'kelley to govern the experience by making it easier to swallow.
the fact of the matter is that nothing, not a single thing, about having cancer and trying to rid oneself of it is easy. even the good days are some degree of terrible. even on the good days you wonder and worry if the poison inside your body is doing what the doctors intend, because, of course, there is a chance that it isn't.
i've said it before and i'll say it again. i'm one of the lucky ones...so far. i'm down one kidney. that's true. i'm down a year of exercise that didn't live up to my new standards set after i started running. i've spent a lot of money on a lot of food that i couldn't really taste or that ended up hurting my poor, little, sensitive mouth. but, i am not (that i know of) in the end stages of any of this. i am fighting for a new beginning. not a cruel and tortured end.
having said all of that, i'll try and capture over these next 28 days what kind of personal hell on earth my last year has been. some of that hell has been a product of the medicine and the toxicities i've had to suffer through and deal with. some of that hell is a little more complicated. the physical stuff has radiated into my psychological well-being, and those closest to me have been forced to suffer, on their own levels, right along with me. how they haven't all left me yet is beyond me. for i have felt like quite the loathsome character at times.
#28
toxicities present:
none yet. it will take 3-5 days of treatment before i start feeling the effects in a significant way. slowly, though, my body will stand up and realize that the shitstorm is brewing again. i'll start to feel tired in the late afternoon first. then, i'll know it's coming.
pain level (out of 10):
1 - i am okay today
lingering around from the last cycle:
hemorrhoids and some light rectal bleeding. when i first started the treatment, it totally freaked me out when there was some bright red blood on the toilet paper. i was sure it portended some type of doom. at this point in the process, it is way more likely that i will see blood than i won't. if i don't, i worry i didn't do something right or strain hard enough. go figure.
(a running diary of my (hopefully) last 28 days of chemo)
tuesday, i previewed this next running series of the blog. over the next 28 days, i'll give you and you and you a running look into the life of kevin o'kelley, chemo patient.
as a disclaimer, when the days get bad, the language will probably follow and some of the imagery will likely be graphic and unsettling, but, for me, it seems appropriate to track what i hope will be the last arduous month of this pain-staking year long treatment program with honest and clear language. it also wouldn't really be very kevin o'kelley to govern the experience by making it easier to swallow.
the fact of the matter is that nothing, not a single thing, about having cancer and trying to rid oneself of it is easy. even the good days are some degree of terrible. even on the good days you wonder and worry if the poison inside your body is doing what the doctors intend, because, of course, there is a chance that it isn't.
i've said it before and i'll say it again. i'm one of the lucky ones...so far. i'm down one kidney. that's true. i'm down a year of exercise that didn't live up to my new standards set after i started running. i've spent a lot of money on a lot of food that i couldn't really taste or that ended up hurting my poor, little, sensitive mouth. but, i am not (that i know of) in the end stages of any of this. i am fighting for a new beginning. not a cruel and tortured end.
having said all of that, i'll try and capture over these next 28 days what kind of personal hell on earth my last year has been. some of that hell has been a product of the medicine and the toxicities i've had to suffer through and deal with. some of that hell is a little more complicated. the physical stuff has radiated into my psychological well-being, and those closest to me have been forced to suffer, on their own levels, right along with me. how they haven't all left me yet is beyond me. for i have felt like quite the loathsome character at times.
#28
toxicities present:
none yet. it will take 3-5 days of treatment before i start feeling the effects in a significant way. slowly, though, my body will stand up and realize that the shitstorm is brewing again. i'll start to feel tired in the late afternoon first. then, i'll know it's coming.
pain level (out of 10):
1 - i am okay today
lingering around from the last cycle:
hemorrhoids and some light rectal bleeding. when i first started the treatment, it totally freaked me out when there was some bright red blood on the toilet paper. i was sure it portended some type of doom. at this point in the process, it is way more likely that i will see blood than i won't. if i don't, i worry i didn't do something right or strain hard enough. go figure.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
28 days later
i'm kind of scared, when it comes right down to it.
today is the last day of my last break...i hope. the hardest part of all of the next 28 days will be owning that it could be the last part of my physical battle with cancer.
i went to the oncologist a couple weeks ago, and we set up my next scan for may 16th. that will be two days removed from my taking the last pill of this yearlong treatment cycle i've been struggling through over the last twelve months.
can you believe it? i can't. 12 months of pain, fatigue, sickness, and emotional turmoil, projected onto those closest to me because either they lived in the same house as me or i felt like they wouldn't turn their back on me if i complained to them every time i saw them or talked to them. (thank you sarah, hannah, caroline, june, katie, and amy.)
and it's almost over...i hope.
i was talking to matt and stephanie after limbo sunday, and i said out loud to them something that i don't know if i've said to anyone yet about this process.
i'm scared.
of the end.
in spite of the pain, fatigue, sickness, and emotional turmoil, i've been telling myself since the clean scan in november that all of the inconvenience has been worth it. if the clean scan in november proved nothing else to me, it proved that maybe the medicine was working. nothing else was growing inside of me. at least, it hadn't been since the pet scan on april 1st.
so, what happens after i finish the medicine?
does it come back then? is that how it works? in my head, i know that's not the way it's intended to work, but i've convinced myself of far sillier worries in the past.
what if the medicine hasn't "re-educated" all the sleeper cells bent on destroying my body. what if those little devils are just waiting to make their move after the poison gradually makes its way out of my system?
what if something starts growing inside of me early june-ish and i don't find out about it until november? what if it grows faster this time around and spreads to every part of me just to prove it can?
even worse, WHAT IF THE MAY 16TH SCAN ISN'T CLEAN???
fuck. fuck. fuck.
then what?
then what?
then what?
then i die?
at 37?
fear. irrationalities. the unknown. these are the things that have always haunted me.
pre-cancer. during cancer. post cancer.
reset button.
do it all again.
i'm scared.
still.
but less so than i used to be.
beginning thursday, i will document here every day of what i hope will be my last cycle on the chemotherapy drug called sutent.
how am i feeling? what is it doing to my body? what are the worst toxicities? how is it changing me on the inside and out?
you are welcome to take this journey with me. and you are welcome to stay away. it will likely become very boring and very rote very quickly. irregardless, it's something that i feel like i need to do.
for me.
for the girls. for their future.
i am scared.
but less so than i used to be.
i'm kind of scared, when it comes right down to it.
today is the last day of my last break...i hope. the hardest part of all of the next 28 days will be owning that it could be the last part of my physical battle with cancer.
i went to the oncologist a couple weeks ago, and we set up my next scan for may 16th. that will be two days removed from my taking the last pill of this yearlong treatment cycle i've been struggling through over the last twelve months.
can you believe it? i can't. 12 months of pain, fatigue, sickness, and emotional turmoil, projected onto those closest to me because either they lived in the same house as me or i felt like they wouldn't turn their back on me if i complained to them every time i saw them or talked to them. (thank you sarah, hannah, caroline, june, katie, and amy.)
and it's almost over...i hope.
i was talking to matt and stephanie after limbo sunday, and i said out loud to them something that i don't know if i've said to anyone yet about this process.
i'm scared.
of the end.
in spite of the pain, fatigue, sickness, and emotional turmoil, i've been telling myself since the clean scan in november that all of the inconvenience has been worth it. if the clean scan in november proved nothing else to me, it proved that maybe the medicine was working. nothing else was growing inside of me. at least, it hadn't been since the pet scan on april 1st.
so, what happens after i finish the medicine?
does it come back then? is that how it works? in my head, i know that's not the way it's intended to work, but i've convinced myself of far sillier worries in the past.
what if the medicine hasn't "re-educated" all the sleeper cells bent on destroying my body. what if those little devils are just waiting to make their move after the poison gradually makes its way out of my system?
what if something starts growing inside of me early june-ish and i don't find out about it until november? what if it grows faster this time around and spreads to every part of me just to prove it can?
even worse, WHAT IF THE MAY 16TH SCAN ISN'T CLEAN???
fuck. fuck. fuck.
then what?
then what?
then what?
then i die?
at 37?
fear. irrationalities. the unknown. these are the things that have always haunted me.
pre-cancer. during cancer. post cancer.
reset button.
do it all again.
i'm scared.
still.
but less so than i used to be.
beginning thursday, i will document here every day of what i hope will be my last cycle on the chemotherapy drug called sutent.
how am i feeling? what is it doing to my body? what are the worst toxicities? how is it changing me on the inside and out?
you are welcome to take this journey with me. and you are welcome to stay away. it will likely become very boring and very rote very quickly. irregardless, it's something that i feel like i need to do.
for me.
for the girls. for their future.
i am scared.
but less so than i used to be.
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