Some observations of my body after my seventh (and last scheduled) chemo treatment before my upcoming PET scan:
- My bones and joints are still a bit sore and ache-y, but nowhere near the level of neulasta-induced torture. Muscles are very weak, and exhaustion is also pretty high and harder to shake nowadays. But I'm still working and parenting and running errands and doing chores. Because life goes on, with or without me, whether I want it to or not.
- I continue to have a pretty healthy appetite. In total, I have gained about 20 pounds since December, the heaviest I have ever been in my entire life (excluding pregnancy). There are now multiple chins and bloated cheeks and a belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly. But, you know? Who really cares. Because, at the end of the day, healthy is healthy - certainly better than the alternative.
- The lymphedema on my right hand and arm is still there, still swollen, but physical therapy helps. Between the exercise and the massages and the workouts, I feel pretty strong and energetic and I can see major improvements. I've been fitted for a compression glove and sleeve, which is kind of depressing to wear but I deal with it. My husband says I look like the Bionic Woman when I put it on. Eh, I'll take whatever compliments I can get.
- The rash on my face and scalp and sometimes neck, chest, and back is flaring up again. Which is to be expected, since the chemo is so harsh and my skin is so sensitive. So, I take preemptive measures via an antibiotic once a day (for a month) and a thick, pasty medicated face wash twice a day and a pink, gooey anti-fungal shampoo twice a week. My routine grows with each new development that arises, it would seem.
- I still get really nauseous, even with the chemo reduction. Luckily, as with the chemo rash, I can take preemptive measures to combat this in the form of anti-nausea medication, but it's uncomfortable nonetheless. Yet another reminder that my body is being poisoned, and there's not much I can do about it except take pills upon more pills to fight it off.
- I have "chemo brain," which means I am constantly forgetting everything. I have to remember to set reminders. Which, of course, I forget! I forget to do basic things and sometimes forget where I am or what I'm doing. I start a sentence and then trail off because I've lost my train of thought. I've forgotten what I was going to say as I am in the process of speaking. Not to mention that I lose memories. This part of the chemo brain can be a pretty tragic experience. What is life without memory?
- My ovaries have shut down. I am now experiencing menopausal-like symptoms. Including hot flashes. It is probably the worst part about the chemo now that I no longer need the neulasta shots and don't have to worry so much about low white blood counts anymore. I try not to complain about this, since there are pros to menopause (such as the obvious), but hot flashes in this heat can be unbearable. Thank goodness for ice water and air conditioning and layered clothing.
- The sores in my mouth, under my tongue, down my throat, burn as I swallow. My teeth are sensitive, making it hard to chew. I could do without the persistent ashy taste in my mouth. The constant bloody nose is a nuisance. My nails are starting to ripple, the nail beds bruising. I'm told my finger nails will eventually fall off if I continue with more chemo treatments.
- I am currently craving sushi. And salad. And medium rare steak. And cold pasta salad. And over-easy eggs. And soft-serve frozen yogurt. And smoked salmon. And sriracha sauce. And an Italian hoagie. And bananas. And raw cilantro. And goat cheese. And tap water, of all things. And, oh yeah, more sushi. Basically, everything that I have not been "allowed" to eat these last five months because of the chemo.
- I have "chemo brain," which means I am constantly forgetting everything. I have to remember to set reminders. Which, of course, I forget! I forget to do basic things and sometimes forget where I am or what I'm doing. I start a sentence and then trail off because I've lost my train of thought. I've forgotten what I was going to say as I am in the process of speaking. Not to mention that I lose memories. This part of the chemo brain can be a pretty tragic experience. What is life without memory?
- My ovaries have shut down. I am now experiencing menopausal-like symptoms. Including hot flashes. It is probably the worst part about the chemo now that I no longer need the neulasta shots and don't have to worry so much about low white blood counts anymore. I try not to complain about this, since there are pros to menopause (such as the obvious), but hot flashes in this heat can be unbearable. Thank goodness for ice water and air conditioning and layered clothing.
- The sores in my mouth, under my tongue, down my throat, burn as I swallow. My teeth are sensitive, making it hard to chew. I could do without the persistent ashy taste in my mouth. The constant bloody nose is a nuisance. My nails are starting to ripple, the nail beds bruising. I'm told my finger nails will eventually fall off if I continue with more chemo treatments.
- I am currently craving sushi. And salad. And medium rare steak. And cold pasta salad. And over-easy eggs. And soft-serve frozen yogurt. And smoked salmon. And sriracha sauce. And an Italian hoagie. And bananas. And raw cilantro. And goat cheese. And tap water, of all things. And, oh yeah, more sushi. Basically, everything that I have not been "allowed" to eat these last five months because of the chemo.
Sigh. I am so ready for this chemo to be over. Hopefully seventh time's the charm.
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