THINGS I WISH I NEVER NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT CHEMO

My eyebrows are vanishing. 

I noticed this morning when I was washing my face, with warm water because anything cold causes sharp, pointy knives to stab me. 

It's called neuropathy...and it sucks. Pins and needles in hands, feet, mouth, throat and on cold days that require breathing outside, my nose and sinuses, too. (FYI-breathing outside is pretty much a requirement for staying alive.) 

During our "Chemo Class", the physician's assistant explained the side effects that COULD happen with the neuropathy. "You will probably want to wear gloves or mittens when you're taking things out of the refrigerator. Buy warm pajamas and socks. You'll probably need a heated blanket to sleep at night." According to my husband, I am a furnace at night, and I have never been able to sleep in socks! Until now. I am now a fuzzy pajama wearing, socks can't be soft enough, gloves strategically placed around the house and my barns kind of gal. 

Along with those joyful accommodations for neuropathy is the redness and change of fingerprints which means no easy logging into any of my pages and accounts with a simple finger recognition. It's a little inconvenience in the scheme of things, but it is one more frustration and cancer trying to take away who I am and what I can do. 

Nausea and exhaustion and lack of appetite are the "minor" side effects according to all the flyers. Not so minor. I'm scheduled for 12 rounds of chemo, and the first went okay. I was able to use my anti-nausea meds to ward off, or at least minimize...until round 5. When you're already wiped out from chemo and then have to rush to the toilet and eject the nutrition you're trying to keep inside...not great, and adds to the exhaustion.

Exhaustion has been the hardest. Chemo infusion on every other Tuesday is usually smooth since my doctors added more anti-nausea meds after round 5. Imagine every cell in your body vibrating with tiredness. Oh, and don't forget the anvil of fatigue sitting on your chest, preventing full deep breaths. Too tired to eat. So tired you can't walk outside without needing to sit down and catch your breath. I am not a sit around and do nothing kind of person. Chemo does not care. 

Hair loss was one of the side effects that I dreaded most, until I actually had a few infusions under my belt. My chemo protocol doesn't usually cause chunks at a time lost hair, but it does cause thinning. Every day I brush away a bit more, but it doesn't bother me so much now because I really just want to survive this terrible thing. I use a rosemary oil concoction suggested by my nurse and my stylist. Not sure it's working, but my head sure smells good at night! 

Then there are the side effects that I had to learn as we go. My protocol is Monday labs and hydration, Tuesday chemo, and Thursday disconnect and hydration. One of my poisons is named 5FU which needs to run for 46 hours on a pump I wear home on Tuesdays. The following week is my "off week" when I try to regain as much strength as possible to be ready for the next week's poison infusion. During my off week, I get what I call a chemo cold. My sinuses get congested, causing a constant runny nose. Oh, but not regular runny nose output. Chemo snot is what I call it. I also have chemo dry eyes, causing nearly constant wiping and eye drop use. Again, not regular tears, but what I call chemo tears as it's more gel than water. 

SO. MUCH. FUN.

Add in some chemo brain fog and it's quite the recipe.

But, the lesions are shrinking. That actually wasn't supposed to happen. Docs were going for "stay the same", but that doesn't work for me. It's going to be gone. I have 5 more infusions. Christmas week is my last. Then, 4-5 weeks until a final surgery and 4-6 recovery. But without new chemo, so much easier to regain my strength! 

My eyelashes are nearly gone, too, but I am not sweating the small stuff. It's just hair. Nine more weeks until the best Christmas gift, being done with chemo.