Round Two.....FIGHT!

Let's just say that the slack-jawed look on my face as I type all this will suffice to define the least week.  I will try to be as concise as possible, since there is a lot of ground to cover - needless to say I missed being able or willing to type here.

So, last time we were together, I was bemoaning the inevitable loss of my hair.  Such a vanity for human beings isn't it?  Men and women alike, there is something just so fundamental to the biological markers on our bodies....the hair, the eyelashes, the eyebrows - all convey so much information when we look and talk to each other (and ourselves).  I made it through the last big chemo treatment:

There is a simply wonderful story behind this picture.  My Aunt Brenda, has a sincerely beautiful friend in Mattoon, IL, a Ms. Jodi Sparks.  She belongs to the Shawl Ministry Group of the First Presbyterian Church, and inquired of Brenda whether or not I would be interested in a Prayer Shawl.  Brenda affirmed this and unbeknownst to me, Jodi began to make a Prayer Shawl for me during my chemotherapy, surgery and recovery.  So about two weeks ago, this beautiful shawl arrives in the mail on my doorstep along with a lovely card and the kind of letter that can only be described as a "good day maker".    I now wear it faithfully every time I go in for treatments and it is the only thing that keeps me warm in those cold rooms.  One passage Jodi shared with me in her letter has been stuck with me ever since and I think it most likely will stick for the rest of my life:

  "Courage does not always roar....sometimes it is a small voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow."  Bless her, and thank you so much, Jodi.

So I had the treatment and went home to pass out.  I figured that the rest of my hair would most likely start falling out in clumps over the weekend and I might as well just shave the beast and be done with it.  So we decided to make before and after pictures for point of reference.

Here, I am tired but pretty much OK.  Lord, did I have NO clue what was coming around the bend.  Smiling like a lemming and expecting basically a repeat of the first three weeks of treatment.  HA?  Below, you can see the small forest creature that rose up from the remnants of my shave, complete with googlie-eyes.

 And below, you see the after.  I am looking JUST a tad "monkish" but otherwise content and happy with the fact that I do not have any strange or unexplained lumps, depressions or protrusions on my skull - that would have been less than optimal.

And then things got INTERESTING.  Saturday and Sunday went pretty much as I expected.  Tired, a little wiped out and I had developed not just mouth sores but ones in my sinuses, throat and a killer set of ulcers along my bottom lip.  Monday rolls around and I am unable to even get up off the couch.  I chalk this up to the cumulative effects of the chemo and figured that by Wednesday I would be back up and running and close to "normal".

Uh, no.

Wednesday rolls around and I realize that I haven't showered in days or brushed my teeth because I cannot physically move off the couch.  At this point, I'm feeling a little dizzy, not really able to eat or drink much because the sores are now impeding even simple functions like, sleeping and not being a mouth-breather.   Again, I figure that this is just because it's round two and I should be just great after the weekend.

Thursday:  My husband forces me to call the oncologist's office by threat of physical violence.   Result?  They tell me to come in right away.  Thank goodness I had finally taken a shower.  Turns out that, moron here, is severely dehydrated and the sores have gotten so bad at this point that they have decided to unplug the 5-FU pump for a week and then start up again at a 25% lower solution.  Basically, I was thirsty, REALLY thirsty and the 5-FU was kicking my butt all over the place.  Three hours and two litres of saline later and I cannot believe the difference.  They remove the pump, which means I can enjoy regular showers for the next week - SQUEE - and prescribe me a Magic Mouthwash to help me eat food and a lovely little elixir of Lortab for the pain and swelling.  Upshot is, I feel like an entirely different person.  I went back in today for another two bags of saline and the mouthwash has made it possible to eat and drink again.

I have already been through the dialogue, both external and internal, about my own disappointment in having to come off the 5-FU for a week.  Naturally, I question whether or not this could affect my treatment negatively - anything not going to/killing Jeffrey is a concern of mine.   But then, I know that it won't help me any if the treatment kills me rather than cures me.  So, I got off that train of thought and decided that I am going to enjoy this next week with no pump hanging off me like Prometheus' stone, feeling a lot better with the pain managed and an understanding of the finer points of hydration.

Love you all~