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Chemo Continues -
Can Be Tiring
May 26, 2003
Sister, Tara, arrived Thursday and
left today. I’m glad she came when I felt energetic. It’s not
that she is work to entertain, quite the contrary. I just want
her visit to be fun. I have shown her around town. She met a few
people. It’s really nice for my sisters when they come to visit.
This is such a ‘homey’ recluse that I believe they feel I am well
cared for by friends here in the area.
I realized with this visit just
how much housework Bob does. He does nearly everything. I do
hardly anything. I tried to make rice pudding. I thought it
would be a comfort food for us both. It’s not a complicated
process, but it turned out really badly. Neither of us enjoyed
it. When I first asked him how it was, it kind of hurt my
feelings, I so wanted to do something well. But, when I tasted
it I had to agree. Bad pudding. I guess this is not the time to
cook. Everything tastes so, I don’t know, not good.
May 27, 2003
I had my second treatment today,
two down, six to go. My blood work looked great. This is really
good thing. It means that I may not feel a cumulative effect of
treatments, that I will feel good in between each treatment, even
the last two. The treatment went okay. I’m not as hyper as I was
after the first. Maybe it’s just a matter of degree. I felt so
bad going into the first treatment, already nauseas and beaten
down by the flurry of surgery that preceded. But, today I was
going in feeling pretty well to begin. I don’t know if it’s the
delivery of the Adriamycin or is just the drug. It is given IV
push, unlike the Cytoxan which is allowed over an hour to drip.
Anyway, with Adriamycin there is a physical/psychological change,
very noticeable. So far it’s my least favorite. Today I finally
found some information about Taxol, which will be given to me in
the last 4 treatments. It looks like it’s not a fun drug either.
With the Taxol I may also have the opportunity to lose all body
hair as well as that on my head. It just gets better and better.
I think of myself as a Buddhist nun. I’m working to deserve the
stature.
Today there were some really sick
people that came through for treatment when I did. My heart ached
for them. I felt a bit guilty sitting there in my yoga pose
looking healthy and robust. I breathed, prayed and meditated for
them. I am so fortunate. Though I am already smelling and
tasting the chemo flavor that spoils my appetite and may precede
nausea, that’s nothing compared to folks who cannot hold food down
at all, who have tumors that are being reduced with chemo (as
opposed to my little microscopic guys), who do not have the
insurance or money to afford the best anti-nausea med our system
offers. My skin is white (nearly glow in the dark), many going
through chemo are actually sallow with dark circles under their
eyes. I wonder how they cope when they are so tired and so beaten
down by their treatments? When I first began working with
cardiopulmonary rehabilitation I remember being so impressed with
the zest for life I observed in most of the cardiac patients. The
pulmonary, on the other hand, seemed so low energy, just dragging
through the process. Eventually I caught on, however. The
pulmonary patients were tired, for pete’s sake. All they did was
difficult, yet look at the courage and tenacity as they showed up
3 times a week working for the minimal improvement they would
experience. The cardiac people, working to improve the muscle of
the heart, were assured improved quality of life. The pulmonary
people were often just maintaining. I grew to deeply admire both
groups, but felt it was a true gift that I got to know and work
with the brave people in the pulmonary group. That’s how I felt
today when I looked at some of the people in the room receiving
chemo treatments as the same time as me. None of us know for sure
what will happen with us. Cancer is a great unknown. But, let’s
face it, for some of us it’s so much easier to have faith in a
future and the positive attitude that helps deliver it. I am
blessed.
May 28, 2003
I am feeling tired earlier than I did with the
first treatment. Maybe then I was just feeling better than I
had the week before.
May 29, 2003
No nausea, just tired and not wanting to eat -
at all. It doesn't matter to me what people say and what
food they offer, it all seems to be just too much effort. I
want to lie on my side and sleep whenever possible. I don't
know if it's real fatigue or psychological desire for escape, but
that's how it is. I am able to work some but every
interaction requires phenomenal effort. The restorative yoga
postures that I gleaned from the Iyengar therapeutic library just
do not work. They seem to take great effort as well and when
I'm in them I am restless. I am anxious to see what Geeta
has to say when she replies to my letter. I generally would
like to crawl out of my skin and not have to breathe in the smell
of chemo. My body often shudders, like it wants to throw the
chemo out. I have to believe that this drug is doing a lot
of good, if it's making my more evolved cells react this way,
what's it doing to the silly cancer cells?
June 1, 2003
I'm a bit disappointed. I was hoping to
feel better today than I do.
June 2, 2003
Nearly myself again. I have come to the
conclusion that no one really knows what's going on. All the
advice sounds sweet and probably works in theory but I really must
tap into my own intuition as to what is going to see me through.
I am seeing an acupuncturist weekly, my oncologist I now see every
3 weeks, and just was introduced to a naturopath. She had
some good advice. I think I will be able to follow it on the
2 weeks that I feel well between treatments. The week of
treatment I don't believe I will be able to really listen to
anyone, except my own body.
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