Cycle 3, Day 8
Today was a much better day than yesterday. I threw up today. Quite a few times. But it was an overall good day. Never in my life did I expect to be here, but life can be strange sometimes.
This cycle we added a new drug to my chemotherapy cocktail. I'd been on something called Folfiri, which is a mixture of three drugs used to treat stage four colon cancer (and probably other things, too). This time we added a drug called Avastin. Avastin is used to treat a wider variety of cancers, and, very generally, acts to restrict blood vessels to tumors.
However, none of these drugs are targeted. And Avastin has some wicked side effects. I've had crippling headaches all week, and I suspect that my recent vomiting is also related. Happily, I have an appointment with my symptom management doctor next week, so I'm certain we'll be able to either resolve, or at least make manageable, these side effects.
When I take a car selfie, I try and do it with style. Too bad my BURN THE GOAT pin isn't visible (look up Gävle Goat for more info)
She has become somehow more cuddly lately.
Cycle 3, Day 7
Its been a suboptimal couple of days. The new chemotherapy drug, Avastin, has new and exciting side effects that I was simply unprepared for. Avastin's purpose is to starve tumors of blood vessels, so it's a very important part of my treatment, but in doing that (I think) it's been giving me neck stress headaches. Yesterday, I made a delicious chilli, and ate too much of it. A mistake I hope to never make again, because the side effects have been making me suffer all day. I haven't been able to keep down over the counter medicines to help with any of the symptoms (I've called the hotline, I'm not in danger). I see a doctor for symptom management next week, as well as my oncologist, so these problems will be addressed soon.
To compound my difficulties, I've had two long phone calls - one, yesterday, with the cancer centre's social worker and mental health generalist, and while its fantastic to know (and like) my mental health professionals, my personal, pre cancer, history is heavy enough, and discussing how its evolved since August was draining before the side effects got mixed in. Today I spoke with a home care coordinator, mostly as an intake appointment, but we touched on the evolving nature of my needs.
Friends, if this has been too much, duck out now. It's fine, I love and care about you all, I need to share this but you don't need to see it.
Right now, my needs are very basic. I need PICC maintenance once a week. We touched on how pain management tends to go, and the role home care nurses play as people move from lighter opiates, to more serious ones, to long acting ones to pumps, and how keeping good records on use makes it easier to justify stronger medications when the time comes. We talked how more time in bed can lead to bed sores, the early warning signs and the waitlists for PSWs and physical therapists. We talked end of life, mainly the where of it. Not because it's imminant, but because I have all my mental faculties now and need to be thinking about these things.
It's been an exhausting few days. And side effects have stolen some of my precious good days. But we soldier on. The chili was perfect, I've learned that I should be grazing rather than taking large meals, Thomasin has been paying her rent with wonderful cuddles, the birds and squirrels have been a source of delight all day. It's been a tough few days, but I've had much, much worse, and the next few days are hopefully looking up.
From the comments
James Petrosky: I wouldn't have written the hidden paragraph if I wasn't comfortable talking about it, but please either nest your comments carefully or message me directly. I'll get to you all as I have the energy.
James Petrosky: If you were close to me during any of the times my depression and later bipolar disorder flared up, you know I have no problem discussing difficult health issues. I have similar intentions here, serious health problems affect us all and need to be better normalized. I find Dave Warnock, a long time atheist/secularist activist who was diagnosed with ALS a few years ago, and has been very public about how that's affected his life, from diagnosis to end, to be inspiring and more than a little bit of an inspiration for these posts. His Dying Out Loud was important to me before all of this happened, and has taken a new importance since.
I have not accepted end yet. I'm very hopeful about surgery, and feel like I'm due for a win when it comes to the outcome of that surgery. But it's been an emotional couple of months, and the hardest week since I started chemo, and friends, I have no intention of hiding this messy stuff for you.