Cancer Selfies

Energy Drinks

Forgetting to eat a couple meals and then consuming an enormous amount of caffeine leaves me feeling high and uncomfortable and cold. 0/10 just get regular high

Bipolar Awareness Day

Apparently yesterday was some sort of bipolar disorder awareness day. I was pretty busy with a full day of scheduled existential crisis about mortality to notice.

All I've got to say is that we're fucking human, and you can get hyperfucked if you're still writing us like we're magic weirdos with intense mood swings. Especially if it's for a dumb meme, that dangerous misinformation will spread for years.

We're human. I'd love to have a conversation about what depression or hypomania feels like if you're curious, but all you alls simply must stop spreading medical misinformation first.

From the comments

James Petrosky: This sounds like a very specific call out. If is not. I didn't see any of my friends posting stuff like this. I did see lots of stuff like this in groups some of you frequent, though, and that's more than a little bit suspect

James Petrosky: bout me, though, and my mental health.

I don't talk about depression so much anymore. I still experience it, am still medicated and still speak to someone regularly about it. From a medical and quality of life point of view, I absolutely still experience it. But philosophically, is it still disordered if it's about an extremely real thing? Is it still depression when you are surrounded by proof of your impending mortality? Of the failure of all treatment options to accomplish anything beyond the bare minimum?

I don't know, and if you want to have a conversation about it you can find me at a bar outside the University of Waterloo most Wednesdays 2006-2009, because that's the time in my life for such discussions. Today whether it is or isn't depression doesn't matter (and I really mean that, I'm not looking for validation either), today is one of my extremely finite days, and I should make something of it regardless how I feel (although what is dependent on how pretty strongly).

James Petrosky: I've had some hypomania this treatment cycle. It's weird feeling so motivated to do things, and having the feeling of having energy, only to have it all come crashing down when the reality of a body ravaged by months of chemo becomes unavoidable. I still spent a week not sleeping, with a mind that wouldn't stop (only about 25% thoughts of death, so could be worse). Hypomania is only good in fiction, although it can be briefly enjoyable.

What dreams may come...

I was fantasizing about going out for bacon and eggs for breakfast until I remembered I can't risk runny eggs for another week into my chemo cycle

Lashing out

Chemo potentially affects all your hair. You don't grasp how much your eyelashes do to keep stuff out of your eyes until they're gone.

From the comments

James Petrosky: Had to pull off the road today (on the way to my chemo disconnect) because I was tearing up so bad. It happens a couple times a day, normally not when I'm driving, though.

Pre-chemo exhaustion

If I refuse to get out of bed, maybe I can call in sick to chemo?

Pre-chemo exhaustion update

I did manage to get to chemo

Talking about poop

I love talking most cancer stuff, but heck do I hate bowel movement stuff. So I'm going to talk about it so I can get over it.

I had a BM around five hours ago, and it still hurts enough that sitting is uncomfortable. My oncologist and nurses are aware, there's nothing to be done for now (asside from pain killers, which I did forget about until just now). This is just my life much of the time now (and has been for weeks).

The cancer in my prostate has spread to my rectum at the time of surgery, June 2023. I have no idea how related that is to my pain, but it certianly plays a role in some of my other plentiful BM problems. At least all the results I got today were neutral-positive.

From the comments

James Petrosky: While I'm here, I've had diharea basically every day since I started chemo in November, probably for a month before but it's just not possible to remember all that. Imodium works, but it's expensive and you've still got to go sometime.

James Petrosky: In the hour after I woke up but before I got up, I had five BMs. They were all uncomfortable and hurt for the next ten minutes. This is the worst I've had, but is pretty normal for late in my chemo cycle these days. Early in the cycle is all chemo diahrea, which I think is as good as it gets now

Maybe this is why geese are known to be so angry...

Exciting new development: goosebumps so intense that they're nearly painful

From the comments

James Petrosky: I'd be okay if it meant the geese would be my friends, but I don't think they'll care about my suffering

Chemo remains difficult, even with magic medicine

Cycle 10, Day 5

Recovery is noticibly harder this time. It's been getting worse over the last few cycles. I don't know if I'm not eating enough, or of the tight foods, but it's Saturday and I'm still in bed (and I forgot to eat today). It's not nausea, thankfully, it's all lower digestive. Those symptoms were rough last time I did chemo, too.

After dinner, during quieter hours, I'll go grocery shopping. I have to eat candies constantly while wearing my mask or I'll risk gagging the whole time. In a day or two that won't be a problem, but for now it's something I have to deal with. It's weird, but there are only two more cycles to go this round, so I'll make it.

Monday is CT scan day. I'll get the report, which I can't really interpret at all, by the end of the week. I'll speak to the oncologist about it on day 14, as we move into the second last cycle.

From the comments

James Petrosky: My hair hasn't started to come back yet, but the facial hair really has. I'll take the small victories, even if the texture is different than it used to be

PICC Nostalgia

The take home chemo bottle line has a clamp, which I'm to use to shut off flow if the line becomes disconnected, and a pump that has to be taped against my skin, because temperature controls rate.

Back in the PICC days, holding the pump in place was pretty easy. My forearms aren't particularly sweaty, so the silicone tape the nurses use holds pretty well, and I had my burn mesh securing everything in place. In the sixteen cycles I had with the PICC, I never had problems with the pump.

I have to wear a shirt to protect the port and line from Thomasin, and my torso is naturally pretty sweaty. The tape is constantly coming unstuck. The burn mesh acted as a strain relief, and I have nothing like that now, so on top of less effective tape, everything gets pulled out of place regularly. I should be fixing it every few hours, to ensure I receive all my medicine, but I make do when I wake up, or when I notice a problem.

The port is better in every way, much better for quality of life, but more annoying for actually receiving treatment. Which is pretty silly.

Pre-chemo chores

I leave for chemo at 1230 (4.5 hours from now). I have several chores to complete and two meals to eat and all I want to do is kitty cat nap time.

From the comments

James Petrosky: Anyways, no matter how hard I procrastinate I need to clean the litter box, it's much, much safer for me to do it when my immune system is stronger rather than tomorrow, when I'll be at least lightly immunocompromised.

Moving to Elliot Lake?

Cycle 9, Day 8

For a few months now, I've been taking lorazepam daily to help treat insomnia (no idea the cause of it, chemotherapy and several of my side effect drugs can cause it, and while I don't consciously experience the stress of my situation, it is extremely stressful). Last night I thought I was tired enough to go without. I was not. And, at this stage of disease and chemo, no sleep means nothing gets done in a very literal way.

And I have a lot to do. I've been thinking about moving to Elliot Lake (where my parents live, and much nearer my brothers and extended family) for months now, and now I have an apartment and move in date. Tentatively I'll be moving May 1st. This round of treatment is done on April 9th, which should work out fine. So long as I only spend 4 or 5 days every cycle in bed.

This isn't the reason I wanted to move back home (for a very regional definition of home), but I'm still happy to be doing it.

Cycle 8 Day 14

Carcinoembryonic antigen (CEA) is a blood marker important in diagnosing and monitoring especially colorectal cancer, but also can be meaningful in other cancers. A blood test messing CEA level can be an important part of diagnosis because the test is easy to do (simple blood test with no preperation requirements). It is also useful for monitoring for reoccurance post treatment, for the same reasons. It's part of my regular bloodwork because it can also be used to monitor if treatment is working. In all these cases it isn't used alone, because things as diverse as smoking, autoimmune diseases and liver diseases (because of the cancer, I have fatty liver disease).

My CEA level has been within the "normal" level throughout my treatment. I'm under the impression that, until today, it hasn't been particularly useful to my oncologist. Or, more likely, it hasn't been useful to her in explaining my condition to me. Liver and kidney monitoring numbers have been discussed much more this round of treatment.

Until today. In the last two weeks my CEA level doubled, putting it comfortably over the "abnormal" level. My understanding is that the number itself can tell you that tumors have grown, but cannot tell you how much. For that, you need other tests, in my case another CT scan. I know, from experience, that in a critical situation, you can get a CT scan same week. Mine is scheduled for mid March, after two more chemo cycles and at least one more blood test.

Because it's a couple weeks until the CT scan, at a time we were already planning to have a CT scan, I'm not particularly anxious about this news. This could be the point where my current chemotherapy is no longer effective, which would be unfortunate, but is also inevitable. It's served me well for a year and a half. There are more chemltherapies available to me.

I'm not anxious or losing sleep over this, it's not good news, terminal cancer is all about inevitabilities and I've had countless hours to process this. I share a lot, but no one wants to read about diahrea, so you never hear about one of the most important symptoms/side effects. I've had diahrea continuously since October, except when I take Imodium. It's impossible to tell how much is the cancer and how much is the chemo, but it's been getting worse, slowly but continuously. I'm not happy to hear this, but it's not terribly surprising.

For now, this doesn't change anything. I'm still getting my regularly scheduled chemotherapy. I'm still going to live my life as best I can. I'm not more anxious than I was yesterday.

From the comments

Tara Kraft:i really appreciate this information. I have genetic risks, and friends and family dealing with cancer, and often i think people want to make the progress info generic to spare us details but (even though I now every person is different) this just helps me understand the kind of decision making and analysis that is happening.

Video: Ask Me Stuff

Remember literally ten weeks ago when I asked for questions? (No? Why would you!). Anyways, I finally made my video because I'm finally, hopefully, coming out of this depressive episode

Nap Calculus

I have to do groceries (or at least visit the pharmacy) today and I want to do bedding. Bedding is risky because you can't take a nap mid way, and mid way naps are how I do everything.

From the comments

James Petrosky:Great victory if I succeed. But such fantastical risks. And cancer fatigue has teamed up with the worst depressive episode I've had post 2019. I'm no longer built for these adventures.

James Petrosky:I sat down to put socks on and now I have a cat on my lap (and no socks on)

Pre-Chemo Prep Work

I have to leave for chemo in an hour, and like always, I feel a profound dread about it. I have to eat and I have to clean the litter box (yesterday would have been better) but I can't get out bed.

From the comments

James Petrosky:The force of responsibility will have me take my medications and will get me to the appointment on time. Of that there is certainty and no choice.

James Petrosky:Other than the dread, I feel great. In six hours, I'll feel as low as I ever have. It's not a choice, really, but if it were it would be a difficult one every time

Post-Birthday Recovery

When you're recovering from chemo on your actual birthday, the cake has to wait until you can handle it.

Not pictured: the pad Thai I had in Wasaga Beach (way better than you'd expect from Wasaga Beach in the off season) and the short walk I had at the marsh (cut short because it was too muddy for my foot ware)

The present contains a heated blanket that Thomasin has already been eyeing

The magic anti nausea pill

Cycle 7, Day 6

Throughout this course of treatment, I've reliably spent between 5 and 7 days of my two week chemo cycle throwing up. Taking my as needed medicine got this down from many times a day to a couple, and cannibis use eliminated the problem most nights, but the problem remained: I was regularly being sick, and when you're sick, it's really hard to make yourself eat. Which leads to unwanted weight loss, chills and laying around in bed all the time.

At the start of cycle 6, we slightly reduced my dosage of a few chemotherapy drugs (we aren't trying to prep me for surgery anymore, I'm trying to have as much of a life as I can, so it made sense. We also added an expensive (after drug plan it's still 20$ a dose) anti nausea medicine. And it might as well be magic. I haven't even felt mild nausea in two cycles, almost three weeks. I had a lot more nausea in the months leading up to resuming chemotherapy in November. And with no nausea, I have a desire to eat more and better food, and the energy to actually cook. I have more days I can be out of the house. It's fantastic. I'm glad I can afford the drug, because 20$ is buying a whole lot of quality of life for me right now.

From the comments

James Petrosky: She doesn't look it, but Thomasin was purring through our little photo session. She'd have been happier on my lap, but she's a good sport

Birthday #37

Thank you, everyone, for helping me mark my 37th birthday. It's always been important to me, but I'm terrible at doing anything about it. At least this time I have the excuse of recovering from chemo on Tuesday this time . Fear not, I'll visit the mall for overpriced chocolates as soon as I'm able, and when my immune system allows there will be sushi. Just because I didn't get to everything today doesn't mean it isn't happening.

Also, Thomasin had a great day, we slept in until 130 and then she got some fresh catnip (that she went for over treats). She's still recovering on the cat tree.

Chemotherapy and birthdays

Cycle 6, Day 9

This morning I did laundry. My apartment has no facilities, so I have to go to a laundromat. Because of the plethora of airborne diseases that circulate during the Canadian winter, I wait in my car for the cycles to finish. I've put off laundry since I got back from Christmas because it's been too cold on my non-chemo days, and today was the first positive temperature in weeks. It was time. I finished the chore, but the chill put me in bed for the rest of the day. And I'm still tired from it.

On Friday, I have a CT scan. I think everything I'm feeling is a side effect, not a new symptom, but it's impossible to be sure. I don't want to give false impressions, I fully expect this scan to have results incremental with the last. I'm not particularly stressed about it, and if laundry hadn't taken it all out of me I don't think I'd be worried at all. But eventually one of these is going to show something very bad, and that eventuality cannot be forgotten.

My birthday is next week, and that's always been a pretty mixed day for me, this year impossibly so. Right now I'm scheduled to be finishing up a round of chemo on it, making the whole thing moot, but my neutraphil numbers are getting low, and we might delay the next cycle a week because of it. This'll be the last birthday I am certain to be able to do what I want, so I have unbelievably complicated feelings about it all. I'll find out on Friday, also, what's going to happen.

For now, I'm too tired to really let any of this bother me too much, although it does sap my drive to do much of anything.

From the comments

James Petrosky:

James Petrosky: Oh! There are twelve cycles in my course of treatment, so we're half way! I didn't think to mention it because I know the CT scan means half way, but that isn't universal information