Side effects.

I pride myself on having a very high pain threshold. I've endured multiple surgeries and procedures (including childbirth) with very little assistance from anesthetics and/or narcotics. After a while, you kind of see yourself as superhuman.

I've been warned going into this experience that I would feel some pain. I was given a shot of neulasta, which is supposed to help boost my white blood cell count. One major side effect is that it causes bone and joint pain. But pain is good, my doctor says. Pain means it's working. Pain means you're alive. It's a small price to pay, when you think about it: Temporary pain in exchange for life. I'll take what I can get.

I didn't feel much the first couple of days after chemo. That's probably due to the "steroid sandwich" I was prescribed - steroids twice a day on the day before, day of, and day after chemo. The side effects were that I had a surge of energy (I literally was puttering around the house at 2 am) and a voracious appetite. The hard part in this case was what I wanted to eat everything in sight, yet everything tasted like ash. A side effect of the chemo, which comes from yew bark. So, as a visual, imagine grinding tree bark into dust and putting that in your mouth. I'd say it's an acquired taste.

I was also warned that my energy levels would be lower as the days progressed, especially once the steroids have worn off. A friend referred to this as a "crash." But, there was laundry to be done and the kids were especially clingy, so I kept up with my normal routine last night. I did "take it easy" but only to the extent that I didn't work as efficiently as I normally would.

For the sake of posterity (and not as a form of complaint), here is what I'm feeling right now on Thursday morning, four days after chemo:

- Pounding headache (it sounds like someone is doing construction outside, but my husband insists that it's completely silent; also, hard to keep my eyes open)

- Aching bones and joints (it's not as bad as childbirth, at least I can breathe, but I definitely am having a hard time moving, particularly my jaw and lower back, and when I get back into bed from walking around it feels like my legs are going to fall off)

- Muscle fatigue (in my opinion, there is nothing more degrading than having to ask for assistance to get out of bed just to go to the bathroom)

In addition, it's hard to speak, my mouth can barely chew food, the light hurts my eyes, and I have no desire to do anything. There is so much pain throbbing in my entire body that it feels like I'm being attacked from all sides (and, more importantly, from within myself) without any kind of defensive shield as protection. Again, I'm not complaining, merely trying to articulate the experience.

I'm told that these particular side effects are cumulative as the treatments continue. All I can think right now is: if this is how it is after Round 1, imagine what Round 5 is going to be like...

In a way, I am grateful for this perspective. I went into chemo not really knowing what to expect. I thought I could handle it, and, I mean, I can (for now, anyway). But this is all one big learning curve, and at the end of the day I have to remember that I have been given a very unique opportunity. I have to learn to let go of certain aspects of myself - pride, stubbornness, arrogance, self-reliance - and to just ask for help or accept help that is offered. There is no shame in having limitations. So I have to remember that I am not superhuman. I am human, and I feel pain. And that's okay.

Because pain is good. Pain means it's working. Pain means I'm alive.