First chemo, so far…so good!
I get two drugs during my infusions. They each take about an hour. The first is Taxotere, which seems to be the stronger of the two, and Viv, my chemo nurse, stayed in the room for the first fifteen minutes of the infusion in case I had an adverse reaction. The poison was engaged, and I became a watched pot. As it hit my body, I sort of expected my hair to drop like our maple leaves after a hard freeze, but nothing happened.
“Don’t worry, you can sit on Bobby’s lap. The first shot relaxes you, the second paralyses you, and the third stops your heart.” Bob’s two New York cats were both euthanized at home, and our vet went over the procedure each time. Now any time Bob is with me while I’m receiving an injection, he says, in a soothing voice, “Don’t worry…”
The second drug, Cytoxan, was also easy. It gave me a tickle in my nose, a pre-sneeze, which was a sign Viv needed to slow the flow. My face was burning a bit, like I was trying a new sunscreen that irritated my skin slightly. Totally minor, and it didn’t last long.
And as far as all of the tips and tricks, I skipped them. No cold cap for my head, no ice in my mouth, no cold packs on my hands or feet. I drank a bunch of water, some hot tea, a bottle of kombucha, and ate lunch from the hot bar at the Wedge. Bob worked on his laptop. Uneventful.
Which is how it has continued. I’ve developed my own chemo regimen. Drinking lots and lots of water, frequent hand washing, shots of Fire Tonic to boost immunity (with special thanks to Robin Gillette), dry brushing to stimulate lymphatic flow, sauna to detox, walks. I’m ready with salt and baking soda to put in a mouth wash to ward off mouth sores, augmented with Biotene and peppermint oil.
After the steroids they gave me before the infusion on Friday, I was up until 6 a.m., but slept normal hours last night. Today, Sunday, I’ve taken no anti-nausea medication. I feel absolutely fine, except for the Red Wedding reenactment happening in my reproductive tract. I had an IUD installed a few years ago because of heavy periods, and the localized hormones it emitted eliminated periods entirely. My oncologist advised getting rid of it because of those hormones. Now we’re making up for lost time, I guess. And chemo will throw me into menopause, so my uterus going to party like it’s 1999 -- before everything shrivels up.