Cancer Selfies

Chemo course three over

Cycle 12, Day 5

This one collects a whole month of photos.

I'm glad this round of treatment is done. I'm exhausted, I'm so sick of feeling sick all the time. It feels like the side effects (best case scenario, side effects) never really leave. I'm so run down. I need a break - a real break. And I kind of get one.

I feel good this afternoon, not great, but good. I had something called hydration yesterday. For me, it's a litre of IV saline over four hours. Hydration keeps me up all night, because I need to use the bathroom. The need to use the bathroom keeps me on the edge of sleep. Last night was all nightmares. This afternoon, I've recovered. I'm tired, but I went grocery shopping.

The break I get is from chemotherapy. I need a break from it, my body needs to recover. If I don't take a break, my quality of life will get too low and, eventually, I'll refuse treatment. I want a long break. Last time I had roughly six months. My oncologist doesn't want me to take that long. Every day I'm not receiving treatment, I'm losing ground to the cancer. It's the worst optimization problem I've ever had to think about.

I talk to my current oncologist for likely the last time in mid May. It'll take a few weeks to get me fully transfered to an oncologist in Sudbury. And a few more weeks after that to schedule treatment. That's likely what my break looks like. The six month break did very little to reduce the intensity of the side effects I was feeling. It was almost as if no time had passed. I've had a hard time making myself go to treatment for the last few months. I think I'm likely to refuse further treatment before the cancer spreads somewhere serious. I'm not there yet, though.

I don't get a break from life, though. I don't have nearly as much as I used to left, and I'm going to get rid of even more, but I packing is still exhausting. Now that I'm off chemo, I'm hoping I recover some of the energy I used to have so I can get stuff done.

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

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

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.

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

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

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