How Cancer & Chemo Treatments Are Like Being Pregnant

Thanks for checking in! It is +8 days since my first chemo treatment, and here's how it's gone this week.

Day +1: Thursday. Really felt fine. Matt & I were both exhausted after that first infusion- me from the anti-anxiety meds they pumped into me (don't think they're really necessary), and probably from the anti-nausea meds (those did a great job). Matt was exhausted from all the visitors I had during my infusion, forcing him to be an extrovert. We went home and crashed that afternoon, but I didn't feel yucky at all, just tired.

Day +2: Friday. Still on the 3-day round of steroids, had the whole haircut/ wig thing going on. That was a lot of fun. Got that Neulasta shot which did me in for the next 3 1/2 days.

Day +3: Saturday. Useless. Well, mostly. I did teach one lesson, and it was a really good one. I didn't feel 100%, mostly just body aches in a few strange places. Hips, jaw and base of skull.

Day +4: Sunday. Even more useless. I could barely stand up at church, and it was everything I could do to get my body and the kids out the door, then trudge back home afterward. Started to have some gastro-intestinal distress (let's just be polite and call it that instead of, say, "Montezuma's Revenge," shall we?)

Day +5: Monday. Went back to work (I was awesome). My brain felt like I was trying to swim through pudding. I couldn't really read music, I had trouble focusing on anything, and my motivation was super low. More GI distress.

Day +6: Tuesday. Was crabby & whiny, but feeling better. Had an extreme attack of heartburn in the night, jettisoning me out of bed at about 2 am from a very strange dream about how chemo should burn in your chest as you get it (which it doesn't), but that I was sharing it with everyone, as I was forced to dig trenches to help bury the branches from the thousands of broken trees all over our city- and NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO SING ABOUT IT!! (That seemed to be the most frustrating part in my dream! Hahaha!) Anyway, got up and took care of that problem, but it was some extreme pain. I lost my sense of normal taste that day, but physically turned a corner that afternoon, as I was talking to a friend, I noticed that I was peppy again. Neat!

Day +7: More GI distress, making the morning difficult to get started. Otherwise, it was a pretty normal day. I attended a yoga class, got together with a friend to make a plan for arranging meals, shuttled kids around, and even went to Mitchell to play bassoon in a concert that evening.

So that's how my week has been. Did you notice? No vomiting!  While I have not been terribly motivated to do anything, and nothing is terribly appealing to my cardboard palate, I have been eating, and keeping it down. HUGE answer to prayer there!  :)

I can't really tell if my difficulty in getting out of bed in the morning is any different than usual. I would say it's much like normal people must feel without their morning cup of coffee. I just never do real coffee. Maybe I should (except for the GI distress and extreme acid reflux thing).

Anyway. That's how things have been going.

Now, here's a little comparison/ contrast I've been thinking about.

Ways Cancer/ Chemo Treatments Are A Lot Like Being Pregnant:

1. You are hosting a foreign body within your skin.

2. You take a lot of naps.

3. Everything tastes weird, and your sense of smell is heightened.

4. People are really nice to you, bringing you meals and helping out where ever they can.

5. It's hard to stay hydrated enough (might go hand in hand with the sense of taste/ smell).

5. Eventually, it shows and people can tell by looking at you what you're going through- although there are ways to hide it if you want to.

6. Everyone seems to have a story to share. Many of them are scary and you don't want to hear them!

7. It changes your body forever.

8. You never forget you have it. I remember when I was pregnant, I was pregnant in my dreams. This actually seems to be getting better with cancer. I can go a long time thinking about other things and forget that I'm going through this battle (until Montezuma reminds me occasionally).

9. There is an end in sight.

Some Ways They Are Different:

1. No one is envious or happy for you (though they are very positive and supportive).

2. Still have "female issues" to deal with for the time being - which is not fair to have to do both, by the way!

3. Instead of growing long, luxurious hair (sometimes in unwanted places), your hair stops growing, and eventually falls out. I'm counting this as a plus because hey! No swimsuit shaving this summer!

4. No one runs races to fund the "cure" for pregnancy.

5. My boobs will actually be new and improved when all is said and done, instead of post-nursing saggy bags.

6. I don't have to start over as a new mommy when I'm done with chemo treatments! Same old mom. Same old kids. No new babies.

I'm sure you can come up with others! Leave them in the comments.

So Round One is going pretty well. I had about 3 1/2 days of vaguely fluish symptoms. During that time, I will admit, there were a couple of days that I felt like a broken doll, and worried that post-surgery I might look a little like Helena Bonham Carter's Bride of Frankenstein...

Matt assures me that my plastic surgeon will do a much better job than this one.