Druggy Saturday

They say the third day after chemo is when the rubber hits the road.  After two days of working out, dining out and feeling relatively good, I woke up pretty tired on Saturday morning.  Ironically, this was the only day that I HAD to get out of bed; when the alarm went off at 6:30am I was in a deep, deep sleep, but I had a meeting at 8am.  While I got up and went, today feels different for sure.

Other than meeting a friend for lunch (during which I was both a. hungry and b. 'present' - yay me!), I have been in a druggy haze all day.  Floating along in a little drug bubble, I walked the dog, showered (and successfully washed my hair!) and took a little walk on the beach.  My hands are a little shaky and everything feels left of center.  For my sanity and my husband's, we are staying in tonight.  Maybe a little TV, backgammon (which I will most certainly win), and generally laying low.  

From what I have read, the week between chemo treatments falls into a pretty reliable pattern.  Get chemo, feel okay for a day or two, start to feel lousy and just went you start to feel better, time for more chemo.  Exercise, movement, and massive water consumption supposedly help to minimize side effects.  My hope is to keep moving through my whole treatment - I can see how easy it would be curl up in bed and shut the world out.  Also, buy stock in Smart Water now - I'm trying to drink at least two 33.8 oz bottles a day. 

The bummer is that, apparently, this is all cumulative.  The chemo builds on itself each week and even when I am done with chemo, it lingers for several weeks, up to a month.  

I'm taking notes on how I feel each day to see if I can figure out what my pattern is/will be and then plan around it.  Look forward to those good days and have grace with myself on the not so good days.  Curious how I'm going to feel in  the morning; I might not even set an alarm. xo J

Comments

  1. MelynneOctober 12, 2024 at 8:30 PM

    “Drug bubble” is an interesting concept. Day 3 after my first session I described my feeling as “tipsy.” Second session I cut way back on the anti-nausea meds and it made a world of difference for me. Not sure if you’re experiencing the same side effects, but wanted to share just in case. Sleep in tomorrow! xo

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

April Oncology Visit and Onward

The oncology visit last week went well as one can.  The pain under my left armpit is, tah dah!, from radiation!  Turns out my muscles under there are working like shoelaces now rather than rubber bands.  Thank you scar tissue.  Is it any wonder my mobility is reduced?  Still need to schedule PT for this but at least there's an answer. With regard to the A1C, I'm to ignore that result for now.  It's a 3 month look back, and guess who still had chemo running through her then?  Me.  I will reschedule the test for 3-6 months out and then we'll get serious about it if we need to be. The only shit news, and I appreciate the candor and honesty, is that there is NOTHING to do for my head hair.  It's still shedding, 17 weeks PFC, and it sucks.  I have a tiny bit of growth but it's random short hairs here and there.  I'm still treating it like lace and I am itching to REALLY wash it (scrub my scalp), blow dry it on full heat, and take a ...
Read more

Post Paris and Pre Infusion

Paris was, as you might imagine, heaven.  Bliss.  Totally grateful to have had the opportunity to travel with LDLF.  6 days of joy.  And back to reality.   Last week, I had an oncology massage at MGH.  It's in the same building as my radiation treatments but not in the basement.  Didn't matter.  I walked through the door and physically swayed from dizziness.  The PTSD is strong with me.  Went to the waiting room and again, was the youngest person there.  Spied the infusion rooms, gave another shudder, and after a little wait, headed back to meet my new BFF, the massage therapist.   When I think 'massage', I think 'spa'.  Nope.  An exam room in which you get a 'massage'.  However, it's not a normal massage AT ALL.  Instead, she worked to loosen the muscles which have shrunk: "Like if you put a chicken breast in the microwave, it shrinks.  That's what has happened to your shoulder and pec muscles."  ...
Read more

The Hill I'm Willing to Die on...

Flash back to October 2, 2024.  I'm getting my port in.  I'm on the surgical floor of MGH West in Waltham.  I am sedated, a medical professional makes 2 incisions, one where the port is placed in my right chest area and one where a tube is inserted into a vein in my neck.  You can see the tube over my collarbone.  It's been very effective, even though I hate it.  It's a constant reminder.   Flash back to yesterday.  I receive a call from Interventional Radiology to schedule my port removal.  I know from prior conversations with my medical oncologist that this procedure is done WHILE THE PATIENT IS AWAKE, WITH JUST LOCAL NUMBING AGENTS.  WTF?  No thank you.  The nurse explains that again yesterday and I say 'no'.  Nope.  You sedated me to put it in, and you will sedate me to take it out.  I will throw up if I feel anyone cut into me, or any tugging or pulling while it's being taken out.  I'm pretty ...
Read more