Chemo Infusion #4, April 24th, 2012

Since my PET scan over a little week earlier, I had enjoyed being off of chemo.  I wasn't even taking any pain medication or anti-nausea.  I noticed that Sunday before my next chemo infusion, I started developing a cough that wouldn't go away with my Tylenol 3.  So Monday I decided to email my doctor and tell her that I was having a cough that wouldn't go away and she told me that she suspected I had a virus that couldn't be treated with antibiotics.  She suggested I take Zofran for the nausea and Sudafed or Claritin for the other symptoms.  I could also try Mucinex to break up the phlegm in my throat.  I had a therapy appointment that day but I decided to cancel because I really was not feeling well.  The only thing I had to really get done on Monday was to stop by the lab and get my INR and pre chemo blood work done before noon.  Janet took me to the lab and I sat in the chair.  I know the two ladies that work the lab but today I had a new guy.  I showed him my bruised arms and let him pick where he wanted to poke me.  He chose my right hand.  He inserted the needle and I didn't even feel it.  He did a good job.  But I was feeling so under the weather and discouraged that I started to cry.  He asked me if I was ok and I said I was, that I was just tired of going through this.  We next went the pharmacy where I picked up some Sudafed.

I spent the remainder of the day in bed. I got my results back from my blood draws.  My INR was at 8.1, which meant my blood was too thin.  The Coumadin Clinic called me and instructed me on how to take my pills and to report back to the lab on Wednesday.  I asked my doctor if we were set to do chemo the next day and she said while my liver was just a tiny bit irritated, she felt we could proceed with chemo and she would reduce my Epirubicin dosage by 15%.

Tuesday comes and my sister and her boyfriend come to pick me up to take me to chemo.  I pack my lunch box and bag of goodies.  I almost feel like I'm packing for day camp.  Marita is my nurse today.  She asks me where I want my IV and I show her my bruised arms.  We decide to go with my left hand.  I've learned that the hand take less of a beating than my arms, well in my case anyways.

I spend the next 6 hours in the chair dozing off and playing on my iPhone.  It was pretty boring.  It was finally about 3pm when I had my sister come pick me up.  We headed home and I spent the rest of the evening just relaxing.  I gained 8 lbs worth of fluid from chemo.  The next day I had to report back to the lab and I had a friend take me.  This time, my INR came back at 4.3.  Just a tad bit high (we want it to be between 2-3).  The Coumadin Clinic called and instructed me on how to take my pills and told me to retest on Friday.  Thursday I was still feeling lousy from the cough and the side effects of chemo were finally kicking in.  I felt really nauseous.  I had to double up on the Zofran and sit up on couch so I could breathe comfortably.  

Friday rolls around and I'm back in the lab.  I fight back the tears.  This is my third blood draw this week.  I am feeling lousy and I'm just tired.  Luckily this time, my INR is at 2.7.  Success!  I get another call from the Coumadin Clinic instructing me on how to take my pills and they tell me to retest on Wednesday.  I didn't realize the difficulty it would take to get my blood just right.  And it's not like I can just quit and say that I don't want to do this anymore.  It's my blood.  It runs all over my body.  If I decide to stop taking Coumadin just because I'm tired, I'll run the risk of developing blood clots and then that could kill me.  I have to tell myself that I have to be strong and just suck it up.  It's not a big deal unless I make it one.  After labs, I decided to go to Ross and TJ Maxx to return some stuff.  I have a tendency to buy stuff and then it just sits in the shopping bag so then I have to return it.  While at Ross I did pick up 2 dresses and I felt fine.  I felt I had my nausea under control.  My next stop was the post office.  I waited patiently in line with my shoe box full of cards I was mailing out for Team Marta.  I was called up by the next clerk who helped me figure out how much more postage I needed on my envelopes.  I had 51 cards to mail out.  All of a sudden I started to get hot and I felt really sick.  I asked the clerk if they had a bathroom I could use and she said no, that it wasn't for public use.  I told her I was a chemotherapy patient and i was getting sick.  She walked to the back to get her supervisors permission and all of a sudden my vision went gray.  I was so dizzy.  I could hear the supervisor calling me from across the room and I struggled to find my way over to her.  I could hear customers asking me if I was ok and I shook my head no.  The supervisor grabs me by the arm and asks me if I could see and I told her barely.  She took me into the back to what looked like a locker room.  I headed into one of the stalls and I try to vomit.  My wig is making my head burn up and I take it off.  I just need to sit down and relax.  I come out of the stall, with my bald head and wig in hand.  I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face.  I fan myself to try and cool down.  I tell the supervisor that I just had chemo on Tuesday and while I had been feeling fine earlier, I just got dizzy all of a sudden.  I take a few deep breaths and we head back out to finish the transaction.  I buy my postage and the supervisor kindly offered to put the stamps on my envelopes for me.  I thanked her and walked out to my car.  I just sat there and cried.  It scared me that I had lost my vision for a few minutes.  And I was angry that I was not normal.  I hated that I was going through this.  Why couldn't I just be a normal girl at the post office buying stamps?  Why did I have to be a chemotherapy patient that had to take it easy?

Sleeping at night has been difficult for me. If I lay down, the phlegm in my throat gets so bad that I start having a coughing attack and I can't catch my breath.  And it's uncomfortable to sit up and sleep.  Any position I tried, I could not get comfortable.  Finally on Saturday morning, I had my sister bring me some Mucinex and Benadryl.  At this point, my body ached and my throat just felt like it was closing up on me.  I tried taking pain meds but they weren't helping.  I finally broke down and cried.  I hated my life.  I was tired.  I just wanted to go to the hospital and be placed on a ventilator.  I didn't want to do this anymore.  I wasn't enjoying life and I thought about the last time that I was normal and happy.  I thought about what it was like to go to work and live a normal life.  The physical pain was just excruciating and I doubled up on oxycodone, praying that it would help.  I can't even bend over without getting dizzy or getting into a cough attack.  All my hard work just flew out the window.  I wasn't thinking about the progress I had made.  How my cancer was gone from my lymph nodes or how my pelvic mass had shrunk.  All I could focus on in that moment was the pain that I was in and it just felt like the end of the world.  I kept thinking about how my health must be deteriorating and that it must mean that I was losing the battle.  I asked my team for help and they came through.  The pain slowly went away.  I distracted myself by watching a Nexflix movie and took some more Benadryl, hoping to get a decent nights sleep.  And I did.  I woke up today, Sunday, feeling a bit better.  I immediately took my pain meds.  My spirit is coming back and I don't feel so defeated.  

This journey has been one hell of an emotional roller coaster.  I can try and beat the pain before it sets in, but I can't control the emotional part.  I have to remind myself that I am human and that it's ok to lose it sometimes.  I know that I'm not going through this alone, that I have a lot of people who love me and who are rooting for me, but sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who could possibly understand what I'm going through.  I hate that it's a gorgeous, hot day outside and I'm stuck indoors because I don't feel good and I fear of getting sick out there.  But tomorrow is another day and all I can do is dust myself off and try again.