This Chemo Crap is a BEAST!

So, here I am, Day 7 of Chemo Week #2 and I am still in the buzzy little foggy head space that my chemo seems to induce.  I'm still convinced I did this Chemo Week better than the first Chemo Week, but I am bothered that doing it 'better' didn't shorten the duration or solve a couple of the least pleasant things about Chemo Week....I know, I know....

Of course, I've pondered the differences - I think I am determined to get it "all figured out" for the very last infusion.  Like it's a puzzle or a challenge (which it is) or something I can get certified in.

One of the main differences is the absence of my husband.  He was able to take 5 days off last time and he is calming.  To me, at least.  He brings strength and warmth and calm and broad shoulders and laughter to my days.  He's not used to taking care of me - I gladly accept the role of nurturer in this family, so I guess it's a little weird for both of us.  But MAN, he's good at it - just by being here.

Another difference - no Nationals.  Last time, my daughter was competing at Nationals in dance and I am all about ignoring any symptoms or inconveniences when something needs to be done.  Hair changes and dream duffles and costume changes and cheering and pictures and packing snacks.  Those served me well last Chemo Week.  I was so busy making sure I could do all that I needed to do, I lost track of the energy it took or how I was feeling or having time to be annoyed by any of it.

Last difference (I assume) is this is now Infusion #2...more poison.  More impact?  Probably.  So, an extra day of jittery or buzzy or jangly or whatever is probably to be expected.

Top it all off with a HUGE pile of hair that came out of my head this morning!

"It's only hair.  It's only hair.  It's only hair..."  I know it logically.  Heck, I even look like I still have a full head of hair to the average observer who didn't pull out, watch fall out and stop from going down the drain and then pile up my hair for a marathon nearly-5-hour hair crisis this morning.

Suffice it to say - if you have long, naturally curly hair and are doing chemo cold caps - you may not want to follow the instructions to the tee on the web site.  I did as instructed, using clips and not bands, washing only twice a week during non-infusion weeks, not combing or wetting my hair for an entire week+ (this includes 3 days before and 5 days after chemo), and just 'leaving it alone'.

Oh. My. Goodness.

When I finally got in the shower at 6:40am this morning to wash and condition my hair - there was a matted rat's nest the size of a baseball in my hair.  It took me, my husband, the big comb we bought, a ton of conditioner, 8 or 9 times in the shower to let the water try and untangle my hair and finally, a trip to PetSmart for a special comb for matted fur.  My husband is not only calming - he's a 'think-outside-the-box' (and species) kind of guy!  I considered not typing that - because really, who wants to admit they had to use a doggy comb?  Oh well, this will crack me up someday!  (It actually cracked us up several times this morning...but it was that disturbing, anxious laughter on my part!)

I tried to tackle it all by myself before the rest of the house was up and finally had to toss in the white towel.

I had a feeling I was going to lose a LOT of hair - I could feel that mass last night when I tried to readjust the clip so I could get comfortable and try and sleep (something which has been alluding me for the past 2 nights).  I was worried, but had no idea it would be this bad.

It took nearly 5 hours before we finally got it all untangled.  And all the while, I kept piling up the hair...it was a massive amount.  I feel certain I did not see it all...I am 99% sure Patrick was tucking strands into his pockets so I wouldn't notice how much was coming out....I just love him!

And then there was the hair that I lost walking to the car and in the car and probably on the stairs and at the pet store and in the final shower I took because combing and raking and unmatting your hair for 5 hours is a LOT of work.  I had to start over or risk offending everyone I came in contact with today.  Nothing like a good anxiety sweat to go with major hair loss and chemo fog.



But it's over.  It's done.  It is what it is and I'm okay.

We made a memory - my sweet husband and I.  We laughed and were silly in the midst of this distressing task.  He was kind and practical and sometimes all business and sometimes so gentle and sometimes the perfect mix of both.  And, as trivial as it sounds after all that - my hair is CLEAN!  I had no idea how spoiled and first-world I am...but not being able to wash my hair every day has been a challenge.

I was exhausted.  I took a nap.  I cleaned a bathroom (except the tub...I just can't lean over this week...my balance is at best, that of a drunken 80 year old after a hard night.) and now I am typing and frantically eating cherries.

The sweet tooth is in full-force.  And right now - cherries and nectarines are my Jones.  The nausea stays at bay as long as I honor my body's need to eat real food.  A sip or two of gingerale and root beer is okay, but no junk.  I pay dearly for junk.

So, cherries and nectarines it is.  With clean hair.  And a clean upstairs bathroom.  And two sleeping dogs at my feet.  And lots of ice water.  And this new (soon-to-be) hysterical memory of the Dog-Comb-To-The-Rescue, Five Hour Detangling Session...and my lovingly piled up bits of "it's just hair."

I am hoping to come out the other side of Chemo Week #2 by day after tomorrow - but if it takes an extra day or two...I'm going to do my best to roll with it...'cause this Chemo Crap is a BEAST!

Chemo Week #2

Chemo Week - it's a phenomenon.  To me, at least.  It's sneaky and doesn't follow a specific pattern (can I tell you how much that frustrates this control freak?) and it's fraught with emotion.  For me, at least.

As I've said, all doctors, nurses, techs, survivors, caregivers, neighbors and relatives will tell you Chemo is different for everyone.  It's starting to feel like those warnings they make you sign at every doctor's appointment or when picking up a prescription and all the "possible side effects" grossness you get to hear at the end of every miracle drug ad.  I get it.  We are a litigious society and will sue at the drop of a hat.  I have to think it all goes back to that hot cup of coffee spilled in someone's lap and then they got the bright idea (clearly a first for someone surprised that a HOT cup of coffee might burn them if they placed it in their bare lap, probably between their legs and then drove off in a car...sigh...sorry...I ramble...) to sue McDonald's or Starbucks or whatever company was trying to do their job by providing a hot cup of coffee...which is probably what they wanted...nevermind...

Anyway, everyone's chemo week is different.  Which makes it hard to plan.

I like to plan.  I find planning to be comforting and spine-straightening and superpower-inducing.

So, not to shock anyone - I planned for the possibly unplannable (not a word, but it's what my mind wants to say).

The medication modifications are working for me.  I have totally laid off the nausea medicine in favor of ginger tea - hot and cold, depending on my mood (thanks Mickey!).  And gingerale - because man, oh man, this chemo gives me a SWEET TOOTH!  I am a salty girl, but not with this...salt can't touch the nasty, tinny taste in my mouth, but a pop of gingerale or a bite of perfectly ripe fruit - BAM!

I have also, with my doctor's approval, changed around the dosage of the steroids...which I do not like to take, but appreciate their benefit during this recovery time.  I am taking them longer past chemo, but in smaller doses.  Kind of like weaning myself off them slower, but still getting all the mg or whatever they come in.  I think it agrees with me.

I have not bothered with the 'deep bone pain' medicine...yikes!  That was a total butt-kicker!  In favor of acetaminophen...the generic kind, you know, really cheap Tylenol!  It's keeping the white blood cell regeneration pain at bay quite nicely.  And doesn't turn me into a buzzing freak of nature.  YAY!

I am forgetful.  My balance is shot.  I am weary.  And I am weepy.

Forgetful seems far too normal to my family - they just chuckle (have I mentioned they are evil???).  The balance thing is weird, but I have 3 strong family members who are more than happy to lend an arm to hold me up.  The weary is my new reality.  I am set up to rest when I need to.  I still push a bit too hard - but only in the safety of my own home or when there is no other choice...like the dogs need to go out or be fed or I need to do something recovery-related and there is no one around to assist.  I napped a little bit yesterday, but I feel better if I just veg out on the couch awake and watch my myriad of recorded shows that are just for me!  I was in "A Chef's Life" heaven most of the afternoon yesterday...thank you Vivian!

The weepy part is wearing on me.  My lovely doctor gave me and my family wonderful advice when we had our very first appointment.  She talked about how we should talk to each other during chemo - the appointments, the recovery, the ups and downs.  We listened, we practiced, we heard her...but I think yesterday I was "thumb sucking" as Daddy used to call it.

Feeling sorry for myself.  Not because I have cancer, but more because I have a new reality.  And I can't and wouldn't change it - I want this new reality because I believe it's going to lead me right out of cancer and into survivorship.

But, there I was - weepy.  Needing people around me.  Paying attention to me.  Wanting to hold my hand and talk to me and watch my shows (which they could care less about) with me.  During the summertime when they have plans.

I may be in chemo week, but first and foremost, I am a mom.  I want my kids to enjoy their summers.  I want them to have as much normalcy as possible.  I want them to be happy and carefree and joyful and with their friends.

So, without hesitation, I gave them permission to go.  Away from me and my weepy self.  I didn't make them feel guilty (at first...but we'll get to that).  My only conditions revolved around getting them places - because, let me just tell you that I have no business driving right now!  My lack of focus and balance and overall weariness seems a poor combination to put behind the wheel of even my compact car!

And so they left.

To my rescue - a friend I haven't gotten to spend as much time with as I would like - because life is like that.  Business comes when it comes and you have to respond, especially when it means an easier life for your family or a bit of a bump to your passion or business or goals.  And so, no matter how much we enjoy the heck out of each other, we have not had the time to make the time to hang out.  And seriously, we know the risks...I don't think we have ever had a "coffee" that lasted less than 3 hours!!!!

So, she was sweet enough to sit with me at my kitchen table and we talked and laughed and enjoyed a few hours.  But then she left.  And the house was empty.  And I was weepy.  Full of totally unfounded loneliness.  I was tired...why didn't I just rest or take a nap?  And I wanted to make something, but

I knew I needed help.  Why did that matter so much?  And I wanted someone to hold my hand.  But I had 2 perfectly lovely dogs keeping me company and completely eating up the extra attention.

Now, my son got home first - it's no wonder - I burst into tears when he was leaving (so yes, I did kind of make him feel guilty for leaving me, but it was unintentional...I had no control in that moment)....I'm certain he was mortified and thought I had lost my mind....but I just couldn't help it.  I didn't want him to leave.  But then I had to send him out to pick up my daughter.  And they handle things completely differently, so I should not be surprised that when they got home from a pretty short car ride together, there was tension.  I'm sure it was about crazy mom and why one got to go out for lunch with a buddy and one just got a Sonic drink.  Or something just as Earth-shattering.

Anyway, I handled it poorly.  Because I'm weepy.  And weary.  And I was thumb-sucking.

So, last night I had my worst evening so far.  Nothing I can't handle, but it tried my patience and I lost my ability to say "I need you to...." or "It's important to me that we....".  I was silent and stoic and totally self-involved and not the least bit proud of it.

But no matter how much I knew my behavior was selfish, I couldn't get out of the funk.

Even on the most normal day, if the entire family is at home at dinner time, I expect us to eat together at the table.  Without our phones, with music, but not television in the background.  I hope for conversation, but sometimes we settle for camaraderie or just a bit of togetherness and laughter and silliness.

I have decided, after a fair night's sleep and a beautiful rain this morning and a quiet cup of coffee, THAT was the root of my weepiness.  I wanted a family dinner since we were all home.  But I was unable to create a family dinner in my current state of unbalance and out-of-focus and weariness and it's just not as important to anyone else.  They see it as too much work for me, and since they didn't understand how important it was to me (and I couldn't tell them with my thumb in my mouth like a big ole baby!), they thought it would be easier to just fend for ourselves, make it more casual, grab something.  My husband wants to make everything less stressful for me wherever he can.  My kids (since the switch to clean eating in our home) seriously jump with gusto at any opportunity to eat carry out junk....it hurts my heart....  And, I am eating for my life right now.  I don't want to put anything in my body that doesn't help more than it hurts...unless it's a crazy craving - like the gingerale or the perfect piece of dark chocolate salted caramel fudge...huhn?  where'd that come from....man, I want a piece of fudge right now!!!

Anyway, we made it through.  I am still buzzy and unbalanced and tired and the hair thing is causing some crazy manic thoughts (I am actually taking pictures of the bunches and tangles that are coming out....why?), but I am feeling less weepy towards my family.  I have cried a dozen times at the violence that is happening in our world.  My heart broke wide open watching the horror in Nice, France last night...just minutes after watching and weeping over another funeral for an officer here in DFW.  I don't and can't understand hatred.  I do understand fear, but I just can't get my brain to make the jump from fear of different or unknown or something past or something perceived to hatred.  And my heart hurts.  Thankfully, it makes me want to reach out, give a hug, a smile, any piece of myself that might help, a prayer or an extra ounce of patience and tolerance and love.  It's how I was raised and I hope it's one of the things I bring to chemo week that will help me heal (and if not heal the world, at least not hurt anyone else during my new reality.)

Chemo 2 is in the books

Yesterday was my second round of chemotherapy for Stage 2 breast cancer.  In some ways I felt more prepared - I mean, I'd been through round one, came out the other side and took good notes.  In other ways the always present "It's different for everyone" phrase that pops out of doctors' and nurses' mouths, as well as the stories from the amazing cancer survivors - had me sure that I could have a totally different experience than I did in round 1.

It was different.  I think it was different because I was more prepared.  More in tune with my body.  Less cocky.  Less frightened.  Less of the unknown.

I started the day with a shower (sadly, not the wash my hair kind of shower, but at least it was a shower!), followed by the gluten-free, organic lotions that have been recommended to me and found by my wonderful husband on super-sale!, no breakfast this time...I was not about to lose the battle to the vomit monster this go-round!, but coffee, always coffee.

I did a gentle yoga practice, some meditation, I was already packed from the night before - but this time I took less stuff and more essentials...Spot, for instance - my stuffed dog that used to be Peyton's stuffed dog, that I adopted to use as a kind of perfect neck pillow at night.  My pink skull scarf - perfect for pulling the cold cap choke strap off my neck and long enough that I could sit on it to pull it down and not have to tug on it for 7 hours.  This amazing ginger concoction that my friend Mickey sent to me - I made it warm and sipped it before, during and on the way home and it seemed to keep my tummy in check...Lisa and ginger tea: 1, vomit: 0!  I also took an electric blanket which was such a blessing when the actual chemo drugs were going into my body - it's a cold that I have never felt before and this really helped - especially when the very sweet techs/nurses/etc piled on the warmed blankets from their magic stash.

We got there on time, team in tow, cold cap cooler staring at me, challenging me, intimidating me.  But I was determined to find my peaceful place and not be surprised by my reaction to have a -35C° gel cap strapped to my head for over 7 hours. 

I gave blood, I met with my doctor and I headed into the infusion room.  Since I'm doing cold caps (and since I was a moaning mess last time) I got the private room.  It's big enough for the gear and my team of superheroes and the nurses and various chemo gods and goddesses. 

The first step to cold caps is protecting your head - forehead & ears especially from the extreme cold.  There are stories of frostbite that don't sound fun at all.  So all this fun stuff gets stuck to my head with tapes and adhesives...my daughter is the expert at this part.  Then, joy of all joys, my hair is wet down with a spray bottle - I feel like a misbehaving cat when she shoots me with all these little spritzes of water.  It has to be damp all the way down to my scalp, but not on the ends.  It's drippy.  Then my husband pulls out the first of the 6 cold caps that are packed in the cooler with dry ice and numbered so they can be rotated to assure they get cold enough between wearings.  The center of the inside crown of the cap needs to be -30 to -35°C...it's soooooooo cold.

Add to that, my extraordinarily large head and you have an adventure.  Patrick discovered a new trick to help get the cap all the way on snugly even before the straps were applied...which was great, because if the cap doesn't touch your scalp and therefore freeze the follicles, it doesn't work to fool the chemo into thinking my hair isn't a living thing to kill.  The ice crystals that form because my hair is wet probably help with that.

Last time, as soon as the cap got strapped on - I had a meltdown - I was unprepared. I was overconfident of my ability to do anything with ease and I thought, because I tend to "run hot" that a cold cap wouldn't be 'that' cold.  HA!

It was freak show cold!  Intense.  Painful.  And because of all I just mentioned - a total surprise!  Thankfully, it only lasted about 4 or 5 minutes right after the cap was secured on my head...but that means it happened every 25 minutes for the duration of the therapy.

The worst part was the intense cold triggered a kind of migraine, which triggered migraine nausea.  I haven't had a migraine since switching my diet away from dairy, grains and gluten, but under these circumstances, my body did not care!  It went into this awful, immediate seizing up of my insides - right at my throat and where all the commercials say you feel acid reflux.  It caught me off guard.  Then they strapped the chin strap on and I became claustrophobic and frightened.  I had a flight or fight kind of reaction and lost all my reality.  I moaned.  I rocked back and forth.  I couldn't communicate.  I was fighting instead of relaxing into my body.  It was awful and lasted the entire nearly-8 hours.

This time, it wasn't unknown.  I was able to prepare mentally.  I was able to relax with some yoga in the morning and deep breathing and relaxation once we got there.  I brought the electric blanket.  I brought Spot.  And I was able to tell my family what I needed to get through.

One of the cold cap helpers (who has been through the treatment on the same chemo drugs successfully) started to massage my shoulders and my hands during those intense first 4-5 minutes and it really helped.  Human contact, blood flow, perspective.  And so, I made it clear that I needed someone with me rubbing my hands, feet, shoulders, back - whatever during the most crucial first 5 minutes.  And it really helped.  A couple of times (I like to think it's because I was doing so well) they forgot me and were both focused on documenting the cap info and putting things away - but I reminded them! 

My daughter also climbed right into the bed and under the electric blanket with me as soon as she got the straps done to run my back or hands...we snuggled!  It was such a blessing and a comfort.  We prayed.  We hummed "Lost Boys"...sometimes we sang...much to the dismay of the normal people in the infusion chairs, I'm sure - but that's our song right now!

Of course, when the actual chemo drugs were flowing it added to the intense cold.  I can't explain it, suffice it to say - I have never been that cold in my life - ever.  I shivered involuntarily for 2 hours - once again - yay electric blankets and the magic 'heated blankets' from the chemo blanket warmer.  Made it all bearable. 

We stayed a little bit longer this time, to make sure we had all the boxes ticked for appointments and meds and cold cap changes.  We still had to stop right there on Davis and change a cap (I promise to post a picture of what this all looks like at some point...it's just so ridiculous - kind of a Marvin Martian thing....I think, I never have to see me, but I can tell how bizarre I look from the looks of the people I pass when I run to the restroom or when we are leaving.  I'm just not ready yet.  I'm hanging on to what's left of my dignity for another week or so...maybe next infusion)...at this point - I didn't care who saw me and my jiffy-pop contraption.  I just wanted to be done with it and go home. 

The caps have to remain on (changed every 25 minutes) for 4 hours after the chemo drugs are complete - a very long time.  Especially when it's talked about in number of caps left...I lost my strength when I learned I still had 6 caps to get through...in my mind we were almost done.  But I got it back - thanks to my amazing family.  I sipped more warm ginger tea, and piled on the blankets and had Daisy - the medicine dog to end medicine dogs and my son.  My tall, strong 17-year-old son is an amazing nurturer.  He loves his momma.  And he is a bit of a pleaser.  All that adds up to the best hand, feet, shoulder, back massager during the dicey last stages of cold caps on the planet.  I will admit that he got a bit distracted during Sports Center, but I get that!  I reminded him it was all about me, he rolled his eyes and got back to taking care of me!  Peyton was wiped out and took a nap at my side, which was pretty fabulous too.  Patrick took on the duties of applying, strapping, timing and all patient need-fulfillment through the last 6 caps. 

When it was all over - I was so proud of myself.  Very little moaning, no crying, an amazing ability to call on all of the prayers I knew were out there in the Universe and the strength of my family to find my center and my peace and my personal strength to get through this.  I was drained.  I think it was more tiring to hold it all together, but so worth it.  I wasn't as jangly and teary and anxious.  Just weary to my core.  I'll take weary over anxious any day!

I napped through the evening, didn't make it through one minute of Guardians of the Galaxy, turned down pizza in favor of watermelon and still slept like a baby.

I didn't do as well as planned with my water, but I am back on track today.  I did do all the right dental stuff - waterpic, brushing, rinse 5 times a day...so that's batting .500.

I got so many lovely messages and posts and kind words and prayers yesterday - it was overwhelming and filled me with love and joy and connection.  Never underestimate the power of feeling connected - even when you've spent a good portion of your life proud of the fact that you can do anything all by yourself.  I can't do this all by myself.  I need people.  I need their toughness, their muscle, their courage to get me through this. 

So, for everyone kind enough to follow along on my journey and send a kind word, a prayer, a cheer and some much-needed encouragement...thank you!  I don't think you will ever understand and I will never be able to fully express what it has meant to me. 

And, best news of all - I am 50% done with chemo!!!!  Halfway there, baby!

Spiced-Up Paleo Potato Salad

For those of you following along on my journey, to a home chef-type, the best part of coming out of chemo is the return of your taste buds!  I cannot tell you how much of my joy is around the taste and smell of food.  I am that lady you see at a farmer's market or restaurant or food truck with her eyes popped out and sounds of joy between bites and a little notepad to write down flavor combos and insights and of course, my phone to document every delicious morsel!

Needless to say - I'm even more demonstrative these days - after 8 days of most things tasting like aluminum!  Things that are delightful are DELIGHTFUL!  And things that taste really good are THE BEST (you fill in the blank) THAT I'VE EVER TASTED!!! 

Which brings me to this new recipe....can I really call a recipe for potato salad new?...probably not.  Everyone, even my mom who did not really cook, could make potato salad.  Not that she actually made potato salad that often - not once Clyde Evans started selling it in those plastic containers.  (how did I survive?)

So, yes, this is pretty basic, but say your mom always bought those containers and you've never made potato salad before or you are new to modifying things to Paleo-approved.  Here is my take on it.... and it is GOOOOOOOOOOOD!  For the record...we like a little spice in our dishes at my house!

There is, and always will be, a debate in the Paleo world about russet potatoes.  I love russets.  I have teenagers.  I don't use them often, but I believe as long as you buy organic and use them in dishes that aren't deep fried, an occasional russet dish falls right in line with the idea of eating real, wholesome, fresh, unprocessed food....so there.  Also note, if you want to you can substitute Japanese Sweet Potatoes for the russets...I didn't like regular sweet potatoes or yams in this dish...it was good, but not the classic potato salad from childhood pot-lucks.  The Japanese Sweet Potatoes get you much closer.

Spiced-Up Paleo Potato Salad

Ingredients
3 pounds organic russet potatoes, peeled and diced into a 1" cube
1 cup homemade paleo mayo (I like the Whole30 Mayo recipe)
1 1/2 t chipotle powder(sub chili powder if you don't have chipotle)
3 stalks of celery, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1/2 cup cilantro, chopped
1/2 red onion, soaked in water for 20 minutes, then finely diced
1/2 jalapeno, seeds and ribs removed, finely diced
1 t sea or kosher salt
1/2 t black or white pepper (I use white pepper, because I like the look)
juice of 1/2 lime

Instructions
Add cubed potatoes to a large pot with cold, salted water and bring to a boil
Boil potatoes until fork tender, but not mushy.  Start checking them at 8-10 minutes
While potatoes are boiling, add all other ingredients (reserve 1 heaping Tablespoon of cilantro for garnish) to a large mixing bowl and combine
Drain potatoes and let cool for 5-10 minutes
Add potatoes to the bowl and combine with the chipotle mayo mixture.  (If the potatoes are still a bit warm, they will absorb the flavors better)
Taste, add salt or pepper or even a bit more chipotle to suit your tastes, then garnish with remaining cilantro.  Served chilled or at room temp.

 

Countdown to Chemo...Round 2

Logically, I know it makes no sense to ruin my last few days before chemo worrying about chemo.  I also know logic has very little to do with how I am feeling.  I am scared and bit anxious, obsessed with planning and behaving and clean eating and healthy living and walks and stretching and water, water, water.

I catch myself tearing up about the strangest things.  I reach out to hold my kids' hands every chance I get.  I make excuses to have everyone with me as much as possible. This is actually a really good side effect of my worry!

In the back of my brain there is this nagging sense of what's to come....what will it be like this time?  What can I do better?  Or differently?  Or how will my body react this time?  What meditation can I employ without headphones?

I had to go for lab work (again...every week...jeeeeezzzz!) yesterday and I stopped into my oncologist's office to see if I could get a call from the nurse.  She asked me to 'hang on a sec' and she came out to see me.  She is adorable and makes me feel much younger than I am...I love that!  And she listens.  With her whole being.  And she has been through this with so many people - all breast cancer warriors.  And she didn't make me feel ridiculous for asking the questions I asked or worrying about the things I was worrying about.  How cool is that?

So, I have my plan.  At least the medicine part.

And I have my food plan.  I could be wrong (as I have said a dozen or more times - I am not a doctor, not even close!) - but I credit a lot of my well-being after chemo to my Paleo diet.  I had nothing in my system that could cause the devil inflammation (other than the chemicals, perhaps) and nothing to cause me excess nausea (other than the chemicals) or tummy troubles (other than the chemicals).

I have decided to fruit fast - which isn't a fast at all, but it's really fun to say!  Anyway, I will be restricting my diet to fresh fruits and bone broth for 2-3 days prior to chemo.  Fingers crossed it will help with some of the less-pleasant parts of post-chemo bathroom fun...sorry, that was gross, but oh my goodness - what a rude and unpleasant surprise!

The funniest thing is - planning for my 'fruit fast' has made me fruit obsessed just thinking about what I want to have in the house.  I can tell you I am getting more than my daily requirements of fresh fruits.  Yesterday I ate a giant bowl of blackberries and slice white nectarines, a banana and two giant helpings of grapes (with a little cashew butter - because...YUM!).  Today, I cut up a fresh pineapple and am not proud of how little is left!  And tonight - I have a golden honeydew that caught my eye while I was running errands calling my name.  I've never had a golden honeydew...but I am giddy with anticipation....please let it be delicious, please let it be delicious!!!

Of course there will be watermelon.  Lots of watermelon.  And more red seedless grapes...I am a stellar grape selector.  They have to be round, not oval.  They have to be firm - like really firm.  I pinch them through the bag or plastic to make sure.  And they have to be pinkier-red than purply-red. And I eat one - right there in the store in front of everyone.  And if they aren't good - I move on to the next bunch.  Even on sale - grapes are expensive.  Especially when they are the fruit everyone in your house loves - they go like wildfire!  And oranges...did you know the heavier the orange - the juicier.  Rumor has it from my favorite produce guy, if the navel is larger, the fruit is more likely to be sweeter....no idea if he's right or not, but if there are 2 oranges and they are both heavy - I buy the one with the larger navel.  He seems like he knows what he's talking about and he always finds me the greenest plantains and the prettiest fresh green beans!

I am (this will surprise no one) hair obsessing too.  I am going to a friend's house and my vanity wants me to wash my hair on Friday (the day of the event)...but my chemo brain says wait until Saturday...so I am going to take my scary unwashed hair to a party.... Eee Gad! My friends love me and will be so nice to me and say unnecessarily nice things about my scary unwashed hair and whatever snappy scarf I decide to go with and I will pretend it doesn't matter until it really doesn't matter.  It's the walking in - it's the showing the world a less-pulled-together version of yourself.  The self that only my family sees.  And, let's be honest, not that often even for them...because I have been blessed to not get sick that often.  Oh well.  Some day this scary-hair-at-a-party story will be hysterical...some day!

Saturday is supposed to be "The Big Shed" day.  The day I've been warned about.  The day when I will probably notice a lot of hair in the shower.  It's so bizarre.  I have always lost a lot of hair in the shower - I purposely try and get all the loose strands out.  I scrub and pull tons of conditioner through and think nothing of the hair loss.  But when there's a chance it won't grow back.  New perspective!  I haven't resorted to lining them up and counting them and I constantly worry that I am jinxing myself when I think things aren't that bad and I'm not losing that much hair...YET!   A very nice lady gave me a bottle of the chemo shampoo and conditioner.  Man!  I wish I was rich!  I could get used to that smell every morning in my shower!  And luxurious...oh YEAH!  (I warned my kids not to touch it.  Even after I raved about how good it felt and smelled...I warned them...MINE!)

Side note - it's funny how selfish cancer can make you.  I love my kids - but especially that week after chemo - if something tasted good - like the watermelon and that dairy-free lime "not really fro-yo" at TCBY - I did not share.  At all!  I cupped my hand around it and hunched over it like I hadn't eaten in months.  It was MINE!  And the rest of the world faded away - it was just me and my fro-yo for 15 minutes.  And if I wanted to take the first shower - I did.  And if I thought there was even a chance I needed to drive somewhere - I refused to let my son take my car.  And if I wanted to watch Wimbledon all day - we watched Wimbledon!  It's so outside my personality - but kind of fun.  A perk, if you will!!!

So, that brings me to another part of my planning - having the lime fake fro-yo in the freezer, and making the frittata that tasted so good.  And writing down the specifics for making my guacamole just in case.  And having the movies that bring me joy at the ready - my list so far - The Duff, Gilmore Girls on Netflix, Return to Me, Only You, The Proposal....fluff, but I don't care!  I've been DVRing Fixer Upper because - really?  pure Texas joy and inspiration!  I've also been recording Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire movies for those drowsy days.  I should be set in the veg on the couch department.  Last time I set myself up with books and magazines.  I love to read.  What an opportunity to read....HA!  I underestimated chemo and reading.  I couldn't focus long enough to make it through a paragraph, much less an article or a chapter.

And, biggest prep of them all.  I've decided not to work on chemo weeks anymore.  It's not that I can't work...but the pressure of providing a high-quality product as a one-man show is too much when you are having an out-of-body experience.  What if I don't feel good.  What if I waste an ounce of healing energy worrying about garnishes or a sauce or my knife cuts?  We need the income, but I've decided we need me more.  Summer is my slowest season.  Lots of folks are going on holiday in the next few weeks.  And it might be nice to rest and spend my energy on little walks and a nice car ride with my family or a trip to the pool instead of a trip to the market or hours at the prep table.

Cooking is my happy place.  So, I feel sure I'll still cook on chemo week.  But for the next treatment weeks, I'm going to test new recipes or let myself be inspired by whatever looks good at the store or in the weekly ads.  Or I may just cut watermelons and eat them.  Watermelon after watermelon after watermelon!  And that will be okay too.

I have been praying and finding silent time to calm myself.  I have a list of inexpensive, fun things to do and we are trying to check them off as a family.  It's so much more fun to have a tiny adventure than it is to worry about Tuesday.  I can't completely change who I am - so worry is kind of a given.  Plan is definitely a given!  But I am finding peace and making a point to just enjoy each moment.

Chemo will come and then it will go...and I will be able to say I am half-way done!  Now, THAT'S a plan!!!

Coming Out the Other Side of Chemo....

Hello there!

Hunh....seems like a long time since I've seen clearly enough to recognize a face or at least focus on it long enough to connect the dots in my brain that say - presence, face, friend, name, "hello"...

Why?  Because chemo was a bit of a butt-kicker!

And not at all what I thought it would be like (how dare I?, I know...but this is who I am!) and easier and harder than I thought it would be all at the same time.

I was a trusting participant when I went into the room for the first 'infusion'.  I had some ideas, lots of images from movies and television, a couple of retold accounts of other's experiences, but zero first-hand knowledge.  My family suffers from heart disease and severe Alzheimer's ... it's what I know.

That day is best left to the softened edges of memory.  It's like childbirth (and I had 2 nearly-10 pound babies naturally).  I know there was pain, but I can't really put my finger on it...nor do I want to!

The next day was something between proving I was tougher than chemo and wanting to share all the bizarre things I was experiencing.  I chose not to drive, but I think I probably could have.  It was nice to always have someone with me - to remind me that I was real and awake and not in outer space.  I craved connection - lots of hand-holding and leaning in (the personal, not professional kind).  And I missed out on a couple of key opportunities to take better care of myself...because I just didn't get it yet.

Note to self...make hydration a priority...set a timer, make it someone's job to make sure I am drinking lots of water throughout the day of and day after when I could have cared less about drinking water.  And, don't eat ANYTHING except fruits, veggies and broth for the 2 days before chemo...trust me, my stomach and digestive system will thank me for a week following chemo!

Thursday was all jumbled up and jangly.  I felt like I had a hangover..."the mixed every form of alcohol and diet soda and beer (I'm certain there was Rumple Minze...oh my goodness...), no food, loud music, someone was smoking and we danced until we sweat out all liquids in our bodies" kind of hangover.  It's been a while, but you just don't forget these things.  I was dehydrated and full of chemo chemicals.   

Second note to self:  Drink more water, eat more fruit.  Got it!

Friday, we had a dance competition-of all things.  Amazing what you can do if one of your kiddos is counting on you.  I didn't move fast, but I moved efficiently.  I couldn't multitask worth a darn, but I got the hair changes done in time and without incident.  I didn't get enough pictures, but I saw her with every fiber of my being...my beautiful dancer.  I ate a little, I rested when I could and I slept like the dead.  I didn't feel nauseous, which is what I was prepared for and I was clearly still "hungover".

Note to self three:  lay off the prescriptions for nausea and pain.   Start with tylenol.  I think all that medication in my system just added to the jangles.

Saturday, chemo walked up and punched me in the chest.  HARD!

It's the first time I've missed my daughter dance.  It's the first time I knew it was the right and not the least bit selfish thing to do.  I was still hungover, which was getting old quickly.  AND, out of nowhere, my head would basically burst into flames and this sweat would start pouring down my face and neck...it was so awful.  So awful.  AND, I was tired.

This is not your ordinary tired.  I would think to myself (and if anyone else was around, say out loud) "Woo...I'm tired."  and before I knew it, I was asleep.  For like 90 minutes at a time.  It was fast and furious fatigue...I've decided to call this Ninja Fatigue.  I've never experienced anything like it.  This was also the day I became aware of "note to self #3".  I had had enough of medications.  I decided to go back to my old standby - generic tylenol.  Good decision!  Took away some of the buzzing which was a tremendous relief.

Note to self #4:  Listen to your body.  Trust your body.  And don't drive or operate heavy equipment during the Ninja Fatigue phase!!!

Sunday, the hangover eased up.  The crazy head sweats went away and I could almost form complete sentences without wandering off mentally.  Monday, I was still tired, but my appetite returned, the hangover was less intense again.  Tuesday, I saw the light at the end of the chemo tunnel and started toward it.  Sadly, the chemo tunnel is LONG...so it took me until sometime Wednesday morning to get all the way out.

But I am human all the way again! (clearly, I am still tired, because I saved this post and went away for a couple of days...and we pick up here on Friday...)

There are some physical things that came with my chemo that I am still experiencing - the mouth irritation is the worst!  And the bizarre sensation of my white blood cells regenerating in the center of my chest that I can do without...except for the fact that it's helping me heal and that's what this is all about, so it's kind of cool, if I'm honest.

So, addition to Note to Self (#1):  Use the ACT mouth rinse from the jump.  5 times a day.  And a gentle waterpik twice a day.  And eat a lot of watermelon and frozen grapes to take the tinny taste out of my my mouth.

And I learned some things.  Fruits, veggies, scrambled eggs and grilled, blackened fish are the only things that taste like food.  Everything else tastes like I'm biting on a little piece of aluminum foil...ew.  Watermelon is the chemo magic food.  Water and food all at the same time.  I have eaten 4 watermelons in 8 days...all by myself. 

(once again...had to walk away from this...mostly to do real-life things like clean my bathrooms and get some laundry & grocery shopping done...and we are back on Sunday morning...)

The treatment was surreal.  The Cold Cap therapy was far more intense than I expected.  The mental loss of focus and feeling of being outside my body were the worst parts.  The tummy and mouth stuff were my least favorite physical parts. 

My family is outstanding.  My husband is a rock and a mind-reader and a wonderful father and multi-tasker.  My daughter is efficient at a very high end of the efficiency spectrum.  She is funny and ironic.  She brings normalcy to chemo.  She is practical.  My son is nurturing.  He doesn't ever look directly at the chemo, more around the edges, but he is always available to hold my hand or rub my back or bring me ice water or get me gingerale or watch a mommy movie without complaint.  Sophie is a sideline medicine dog - never ON my lap, but always by my side.  Daisy is as ON me as she can fit and still the baby of the family - when it's time to eat or go outside or play - it's really all about her, but she does it with such joy that it cheers me up.

My friends are precious.  Check-ins and messages and absolutely no pressure.  Kind words, listening ears, prayers and positive thoughts. 

I also have a million words to say about my social network and this incredible thing that happened from Friday evening into Saturday...but I need to dedicate an entire post to that...just know if you were part of my miracle - I am honored and so very grateful and humbled by your kindness.

I am blessed beyond words and 25% DONE WITH CHEMO!!!!