Phases

It's been one week since my first treatment, and a whole lot has happened along the way. For those of you looking ahead to ALL of those words and are dying for a one-sentence summary, here it is: I'm doing great. If all the "extra" words are enticing to you, read on...

A few days before chemo, we went to the Community North Cancer Center for "orientation". The vast majority of our time was spent on "here's the drug you will take, and here are the millions of side effects that COULD come with it." Last Wednesday at treatment was no different: "We are giving you this - don't be surprised if it does that," and named another list of side effects, or, "if this happens, then you need to call us right away." On one hand, it's very reassuring - knowing there's a solution for just about every kind of symptom you could experience. On the other hand, it kinda makes you want to plug your ears and go, "LA, LA, LA!" as loud as you can to drown out the endless "possibilities".

So, after treatment we headed home, waiting for the "possibilities" to rear their ugly heads.

Thursday was pretty uneventful. The day after each treatment I will have to return to the hospital to get a shot that helps to boost my blood cell production so that my body can tolerate the chemo every two weeks. So, Dad, Sam and I loaded up and headed back to the Cancer Center for the shot and the obligatory "sit here for 30 minutes so we make sure this doesn't do something crazy to you" wait out. In that 30 minutes Dad and Sam determined that they had volunteered for the right gig, what with the free coffee, hot chocolate and cookies awaiting them in the lobby. After the wait out, I was feeling pretty good, so we ran a couple errands and headed home. By the time I was back I was tired, but nothing major. A nap fixed that problem. That night we got together with our small group, and it was at that point I noticed the "change" start to come on. As we ate dinner and hung out together, I found myself getting quiet - fatigue and a fuzzy brain were setting in. I made it through the night, went home, and crashed.

Then began what I can best describe as the Pregnancy phase. I woke up Friday morning, and my stomach felt pretty lousy. I forced myself to eat something that didn't sound good and sure enough, I felt better. But every couple hours that feeling would creep back in, so I'd head to the kitchen to play a round of our favorite game of the week, which went something like this:

Concerned family member: "Does _______ sound good?"
Me: "No."
CFM: "How about ________?"
Me: "Ugh, no, and get it away from me. The smell makes me want to wretch!"
CFM: "What about _______? You need to eat something!"
Me: "Fine. Just give it to me."

Couple this with a LOT more fatigue, and you now have a clear picture of my weekend.

By Sunday morning it seemed as though my energy levels were coming around, so I decided to venture out to church. On the "you should really try to avoid this" list is being out in places with large groups of people. Church feels like a natural solution then, right? I decided I was gonna trust God on this one and venture out, rather than lose my sanity being shut up at home. It was a great morning, and I felt pretty good afterwards. I came home, visited with a friend, tried to work on a few school things, and took it easy.

And then came the next phase - the Goodbye Stomach phase.

For those of you who I've texted back and forth with during this days, I came up with every euphemism I could in order to spare you the exact details of what was going on in my body. With a medical background of my own, my gross-out factor is SUPER high, but I try to remember that not everyone enjoys all the gory details. Needless to say, my issue was not vomiting, but more south-of-the-border.

Sunday night I didn't feel so hot, but hoped it was a one time thing. I woke up with the kids on Monday morning, felt better-ish, and thought I'd try to head to co-op for the morning. EPIC MISTAKE. I made it about an hour and a half and was in the car and back home asap. I paid for my jaunt Monday afternoon and evening, and by Tuesday morning I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. But, I assured myself, I have to be rounding the corner today - this is Day 7 - the day everything "should" get better. However, my body had a different agenda. Midmorning I was standing at the sink and nearly passed out. Sophie came to the rescue with a bowl of cereal. Afterwards, I explained to her how I felt, and what she needed to do in case I did faint. Fortunately, fainting is nothing new for Sophie - it's a new trick she's picked up in the last year or so. Her triggers are blood/broken bones. When I explained what she needed to do if I fainted, my compassionate nurse said, "Stay on the couch. Do NOT get up. And put a pillow behind your head!" Ha! Unfortunately, not much later I needed to get off the couch and head to the bathroom. But by this time my head was throbbing, I was getting chills, and my temperature climbed about 2 degrees in 10 minutes.

Back at orientation I was given a "chemo bible" of sorts. On the front page is the list of, "If you do any of these things, call us right away." I took a quick glance at the list, saw I was busted, and made the phone call. After a brief chat, the nurse told me I needed to come in to receive some IV fluids because I was likely dehydrated. So, mom and I headed to the hospital for a little mother-daughter bonding time while Mike took the kids to a track meet. Divide and conquer, I always say...

Folks, I'm not sure what's actually in that IV - they say it's saline, but I think they're lying. Maybe it's elixir from the Fountain of Youth or something. All I know is EVERYONE should get IV's  - the are absolutely lovely. Over the next couple hours I could feel the headache, the heaviness, all of it - leaving me. By the end I was whooped - I missed my daily nap for all this fun - but overall felt better. I headed home, crashed on the couch, and slept like a baby. And then when I woke up yesterday morning...

The HALLELUJAH phase!

I felt great yesterday! I got up with the kids, had breakfast with them, got some of them out the door, did laundry, did dishes, took a shower, made soup for lunch - and still felt ok! Woot woot!! After lunch I sat down to read to Sophie for a few minutes, and it all came crashing in, but a quick 30 minute snooze and I felt good enough to head out the door with everyone to Sam and Sophie's track meet. Over the course of the day I was able to eat more and more normally as well.

Today seems to be starting in much the same way, which leaves me hopeful that we've weathered the first round unscathed.

Apparently Virgil (think Ancient Roman poet) said, "The greatest wealth is health." Now, I don't know if I'd go quite that far, but I'd definitely agree that you quickly learn to appreciate your good health when it's suddenly snatched out from under you. Mike has made the comment a number of times that it is so odd to think that I am somehow "sick" because I seem perfectly healthy. And then to throw in something like chemo, which makes you sick to make you better, and it all just seems a bit surreal. But despite the ups and downs of the week, I really am thankful - thankful I wasn't more sick; thankful that I have the ability to slow life down and take the time I need to feel better; thankful for all texts and cards of encouragement; thankful for the yummy food brought to our home when the last thing I wanted to do was cook a meal;  thankful that we can enjoy a few days of reprieve before we head back in for the next round; and ultimately, thankful to a God who has been GOOD to us, and whose love is going to endure this and everything else that come our way.

Love to you all,

Stephanie and the gang