A quick three week review. First week, of February 11, last jumbo treatment day. Intense chemo side effects, worst nausea of program.
Second week, we will call that the week of sadness and move on. Or we will in a minute. The medical professionals assure me this is "tough stuff" and it is totally appropriate to wrestle with it, be sad about it and medicate away some of the lows. For me, for now, that is not the answer. I reserve the right to change my mind. Back to the review.
Week three was the real deal. I felt good. I found some levity. I insincerely but kindly smiled my way through the four year old girl loudly asking me why I looked like a pirate at a school party. (I'll be reviewing my scarf tying technique). We went to a concert. We went out to dinner. We had a little birthday gathering with friends for Jim. We went to friend's for the after party dance party. We got our taxes done. We watched the Oscars. We had a snow day. Jim and I drank nice wine, cooked a lavish meal, had a festive family dinner followed by strawberry shortcake birthday cake.
The respite of course made today more difficult. I cried a bit while we waited for the good doctor. I think Jim would agree - it was just so nice to see me and our routines again. We met with the doctor for a long time and heard about a whole series of new and delightful side effects. Little things like blurry vision (those bitchy steroids) or numbness in hands and feet (this particular toxin). Plus the regulars, nausea and hair loss. Oh chemo, you are a tough gal to love.
So, today. It was supposed to be short, but wasn't. We were at Georgetown from 9 until 3:30. They give four or five pre-meds to prevent side effects, nausea, heartburn, nausea. And Benadryl, so I was not much company for Jim. I napped most of the afternoon, but felt good enough to help with bedtime and have dinner with Jim. I am hopeful for tomorrow. Despite the long day, today was much easier than previous treatment days.
In the meantime, both boys are in their beds. I mean, as in at this very minute. Ian, the one who doesn't walk yet, stays in his all night. Miles not so much. Of course in sleeping training Ian, we inadvertently created a night feeder. This is why I have a dozen books on rearing kids. They are tricky little buggers. Feel free to let email me with your tricks.
Thank you again for all your support, love and energy. And meals, cards, flowers, yoga sessions, calls and kindness. We may not have the chance to return your generosity but we promise to pay it forward.
