In two weeks, I know one thing: I don’t know shit.
That right there, is the nutshell of the hardest part of all of this (at least for me): the unknown. And with that comes the brain that won’t shut up.
How bad will I feel? When will that feeling start? Oh shit, here it is, is it going to get worse? Am I always going to feel this way? Okay, today is a bit better, but will it come back? Will THAT be worse? What if I get constipated? What if I have to stop doing the things I love? Will I get more physically broken down? What if, what if, what if, what if…
The long and the short of it is this: week 1 sucked and week 2 sucked less. I’d go as far to say that week 2 was a walk in the park compared to week 1. So, there’s that.
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There are few things more annoying than being borderline nauseous all. the. time. The major hit came Thursday morning of the first week. It was only 4 days after treatment, and having been told that most symptoms take about a week to appear, I was caught unaware. Thus, the cold sweat of doom greeted me the moment I tried to concentrate on anything.
After standing on the cold tiles of my bathroom and breathing through it, a hit of my vape pen (with my medical friend, cannabis) washed the nausea away.
That’s the thing about nausea… much like pain, once you get behind it, it’s really hard to get back in front of it again. I spent the rest of the day barely functioning and was in bed by 6pm. Because that’s the other thing about nausea… it is physically EXHAUSTING. Which, really, is no surprise considering the effort it takes to not think about throwing up while also trying to manage an adult life. The latter is exhausting on it’s own.
I’ve been prescribed Zofran, which I used that night and all of Friday, but (and of course this is a thing, and one I believe I’ve mentioned before) Zofran is also a constipator. Add to that the fact that one of the sides effects of this chemo is also constipation, and you’ve got a recipe for GI disaster, my friends.
I’ll spare you the details, but on the Bristol Stool Scale, I was shooting 1s for a few days. (We’re back on track now, for those who care.)
* * *
Added to this whole debacle of side effects is the fact that I tweaked my upper back mountain bike racing last week, and it’s been slow to get better. I pushed through the pain last weekend for an anniversary ride with Kenji and I think (okay, okay, I know) that made it worse. So now, I just have to give it rest and time.
And I’m impatient.
So all that means that I’ve been in a funk for most of the past 2 weeks. I share this not for sympathy — I’m a big girl, who handles her shit — but just to show that (obviously) life isn’t rainbows and puppies all the time. I have moments of complete despair and frustration and overall grumpiness.
The point I tell myself is, feel the feelings. And then move along.
* * *
As an aside, today is the best I’ve felt since the infusion. I’m hopeful this means I’ll be on the upswing of feeling good into my next infusion on June 11. Fingers and toes crossed!