Drug Wars

Today was my third round of chemo. I'm pretty sure there are some major battles going on in my body. And I'm just sort of chilling on the outskirts waiting to see who wins what battles. First of all my poor little white blood cells have lost numbers so they're doing what they can but most of them have succumbed to the slaughter. I asked the nurse today if there was anything I could do to boost their moral (and numbers) and she said she heard mushrooms help but she was skeptical because she couldn't see how ingesting a fungus would help fungal-fighting cells to bounce back.

Anyway so the red blood cells have taken a hit in numbers too. But to make up for it the ones that are left are all a little fat. That's not a joke. I'm low on most things, but the width of my white blood cells is high. I KNEW I had Samoan in my blood.

So my immune system is battling against the Oxaliplatin and Xeloda - the two chemo drugs who are fighting against any cancer cells remaining in my body. Everyone's on the same side but...it's like we have some intra-rivalries going on: the enlisted soldiers don't like the calvary or something like that. (I don't know enough about the military to make coherent analogies. But I know if I had to walk around and there were guys that got to ride horses I'd probably not like those guys. Even if they were on my side.)

The Oxaliplatin and Xeloda are my offensive team (moving to sports analogies?). They're a little brutal but all about getting their job done. The problem is the leave a wake of terror behind them. So, to clean up their mess I have a defensive lets-keep-you-functional-or-at-least-close-enough-that-you-can-fake-functional team. This team is comprised of Emend, Zofran, Compazine, Ativan and Baclophen (sp?). So many drugs. Coursing through my (apparently semi-empty) veins.

I'll tell you what. Team defense is doing a great job today. I don't feel nauseated! Which is a VAST improvement over this time last round where I had already puked up everything I'd eaten. Unfortunately team offense is not JUST about trying to get me to throw up; it messes with my muscles and sensitivity to cold and ability to feel my brain connected to my body (don't worry - I'm not allowed to drive or operate heavy machinery in my current state). I'm sitting here typing in mittens because my fingers are ever ready to welcome that cold pins and needles feeling that renders them useless. Knife too cold to hold to cut the chicken? Nice try hands. I'll get you some mittens. Keep working.

My muscles spasm all over which is totally fine - if not weird - but the bad part is my hands are all shakey. So trying to feed myself means I get three of the ten peas on my fork into my mouth. And holding cups up to my mouth to drink has the edges rattling around against my teeth. So I guess the point of this trial is to have a bit of empathy for people over 80? No more pointing and laughing when they can't get a forkful of peas in their mouth. Now I've been there too. Fist bump old people. I get you now.

I think maybe the Ativan has kicked in. What am I even talking about? ...And is it alright that everything goes dark when I sit up straight or stand? And the darkness lingers for a bit before clearing up? That's just there to make my life more interesting, right?

Hope tomorrow is as fun as today! (Today I slept for....I don't know - a LOT of the day and it was grand). As long as all my anti-nausea team keeps working I'm going to be a happy camper! With mittens.