(Mom was quiet partly because anything she said was commented on by the nearest nurse(s), and this made her feel as though everyone was listening. Which is kinda true. That's just how it is in the chemo room.)
Because this was my last session, there was a little bit of hoopla from the nurses, and a bottle of sparkling cider for me to celebrate with! (Sorry, no picture. I was drowsy and not thinking straight.)
When I talked to my onco, he was with me on the whole "get this port out as soon as possible" thing. He says we can leave it in until after radiation is over (they'll take blood about once a week), or take it out before that starts, if I don't mind a needle stick (I don't). I tell him I've always had an easy vein, but I'll see how I feel when we meet up again in June. No question of taking it out at the end of that day, as I would already be knocked down by the chemo; adding minor surgery to that isn't the best idea.
(Did you see what I said there? I don't have to see another doctor until MID JUNE!
I really like that. I'm so very very tired of doctors and nurses and always having to go back.)
I have been more tired. More down, emotionally. And sometimes, even now, two weeks later, I get a sort of wave of exhaustion. I'll be sitting at my desk, or even relaxing in bed, and suddenly, I'll feel as though I just finished climbing a huge hill, every muscle in my body weak, every joint sore. Like I just can't keep going another second. It passes fairly quickly. But that's strange, too.
In the meantime, my left eyebrow has decided it wants to match the right, so now I must color them both in. Sometimes more than once, since I tend to sweat them off if I do too much. I see no sign of these particular hairs trying to grow back just yet, either. Bother.
The hair on my head, it seems, got the message that we've had our last chemo, and looks as though it's trying to grow back already. It's just a light fuzz, filling in about the fuzz that never really left. But it's there. I think. I might be imagining it, actually. Not sure.
My weight. I'd like to ignore that issue. But I can't. I said before that I refuse to buy new pants. I still refuse. I can get into my skinnier jeans, without much struggle, actually. But it's not pretty. No, it's not a good look at all. And my face...ugh...it's all puffy (okay, it's fat). What's strange is that I seem to have gained more just in the last week, and I can tell you that I'm not endlessly eating (although, for whatever reason, this time my taste buds were almost normal), and in fact, I've been significantly more physically active than I was in between all the other chemo sessions. It's discouraging. I had been losing weight slowly, back in Nov/Dec, before the diagnosis. I felt like I was starting to look pretty good. And then apparently, I had to be one of those that gains weight while being treated for cancer. Because, why not? I think I find it more discouraging right now than how my head looks with it's uneven fuzz of hair. If they tell me I'm not supposed to try to lose weight while I do radiation (like they did when I started chemo), I think I'll explode. I mean, if someone is already overweight, isn't it okay if they continue doing something healthy, as long as they don't end up underweight? (HA! as if that could happen!) Not happy about how puffy I feel.
Anyway, puffy or not, for a while at least, life can tilt back towards normal. And maybe I can get caught up with things at home and work. Maybe.
I dropped my son off at the MTC today. It was a bitter-sweet parting. I started getting emotional as we drove over. I managed to hold it together (mostly) while we unloaded luggage and made sure he had the essentials. Then, as the two "host" missionaries were about to walk away with my son and all his belongings, I asked for one more hug. My boy hugged me so tight. Tighter than I've been hugged in a long time. Almost tight enough to last two years. Almost.
You're a pretty amazing lady... but I've known this for YEARS!!
ReplyDelete