I keep telling myself this is SIX of twelve doses. This is TWELVE of eighteen weeks. But the truth is - none of my positive help talk makes me feel less like....well, shit.
My white blood cells are extremely low. Close to zero. Meaning, if they don't come up - there will be no chemo next week. I am on HEAVY steroids and adding more fruit to my diet.
You've heard of 'roid rage? Yeah, that happens with me. I get really volatile and angry on high doses, and I don't sleep. Which is why I find myself up at 11:30 pm blogging instead of on my third hour of sleep. (Plus I'll have to pee about seven times tonight - another glorious side effect of chemo.)
I've felt rotten this whole week - it's taking longer and longer to recover, and with six more treatments that scares me to no end. I've already cut my hours down and per the doctors orders quit any exercise until chemo is finished other than very slow walking. It's awful to feel so weak and powerless and crappy.
Yes, amidst it all I DO still feel fortunate and lucky and blessed. My coworkers are amazing. And I truly, TRULY have the greatest group of friends anyone could ask for - the constant outpouring of love and support is beyond a miracle for me. I thank you with all my heart.
It's tough some days. The doctor lied - Paclitaxel is not an easy drug. At least not for me. But I think of chemo a bit like skydiving - it's thrilling, and I'm grateful for the opportunity. But I've "been there, done that" and I intend to walk away a healthy woman and hopefully never have to do this again. Fingers crossed.
Hi Knikki, spent the entire night reading your posts (I'm slow like that). I know you're not going through this alone because of the huge impact you have on everyone who know and love you. Can't wait to hug you too. :-)
ReplyDeleteHang In There. Sending you some good JuJu. :-) Call If You Need to Chat.
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