How are you feeling now? 

Well, today was my chemo day, and I just arrived home. Today was much longer than other days due to the start of immunotherapy in conjunction with the chemotherapy drugs. This added a solid 45 minutes extra to my day, not to mention the slower delivery of pre-medication to ease the wooziness and side effects. So much of this process is waiting.
Today, I am struggling with hot flashes, and not to mention I am now in an elevated state of anxiety trying to figure out what will happen to my body with the immunotherapy drugs. My labs were good, though my blood pressure was a bit high, and I had an elevated heart rate. Chemotherapy increases the heart rate. On the Reddit sites, I see I should be on the lookout for impacts on my thyroid, liver function, itchiness, and hair loss. Tinnitus, continued pain, vision issues, low sodium, lung problems, inflammation, rashes, and fatigue could also occur. These are a variety of side effects, and I am praying that my side effect is no side effects. I am somewhat confident that given my age and relatively good health pre-cancer diagnosis, I will fare okay. The fun continues, and granted, the hair loss is manageable since I already shaved my head.
And here’s the thing with the shaved head. It looks so awful because it’s so patchy, and where there is hair – IT IS GROWING. Aesthetically, it’s terrible. Wigs are hot (temperature-wise), and are they hot with these flashes? Diabolical! I also have a persistent headache, which feels like a mixture of a mild migraine, a sinus situation where my face and teeth hurt, and a TMJ headache. The painkillers do not touch the pain, and I am left agitated and annoyed. I discussed these symptoms with the nurses, and they noted the anti-nausea pain I was prescribed might be the culprit. I will cease ingestion of that medication and take the alternative. I dislike how the meds give side effects that then you have to take meds to deal with but with no guarantee of effectiveness. Today, I did feel colder and managed to nap during my treatment. There’s not much to do since I have my cold therapy gloves and socks on. The downside is that I have to pee constantly, but I will gladly do so since this is an indicator my kidneys are functioning well. I will take any win I can get in this treatment process.
The process today did feel longer, and it was longer, but I saw the older woman who had the complications previously, and she sat in the chair in front of me. I nodded and greeted her; her smile made me so happy. She was with her friend this time, and all seemed to go well. Unfortunately, she had a reaction to the chemotherapy drug and mentioned she couldn’t breathe. I am thankful that eight nurses immediately rushed to stabilize her. I wish I could hug her and her friend, who was in a state of shock and concern. I am thankful that the nurses are attentive and caring. This is a scary process that has so many unknown variables. I was happy to see her relieved face once she was better. Likely, she will have to look at alternatives, but she left happy in her wheelchair, yelled to everyone to have a good day, and said thank yous. I wish I could hug her.
It’s made me confront how much I have taken my body for granted. Yet, I remain positive that I am in good, attentive hands should anything arise. I had not seen such a quick response before and was in awe of the immediacy and quick thinking to troubleshoot. It got me thinking just how much I needed a hand to hold, and I counted my blessings that my mom was by my side. I know this process is complicated for her, but I am grateful for her presence right by my side. I prayed during my session and thanked everyone, and everything as my meditation teacher had recommended that I practice. I was thankful for the tubes delivering my medication, I was grateful for the people who developed the chemo port, for the person who identified lidocreme as a tool to make the process less painful, thankful for whoever created those Ensure therapy drinks, thankful for whoever created those machines that keep the blankets warm, and for the Romanian volunteer who tended to everyone on the floor. I was thankful for the smiles and nods – they indicated that I was seen and that we were all here for the same shitty reason: having cancer and trying everything in our power to seek treatment to become cancer free. I am thankful that we were there and witnessed them in this arduous process. You might just see me sitting and receiving the drops into my body via the chemo port, but so much more is happening. I am praying, pleading, and hoping that this intense and brutal process helps destroy the bad cancer cells and give me a chance to live a full, healthy life. I constantly monitor my body, make sure I am able to function, make sure the bodily functions I took for granted are still there, and make a list of potential things to do to mitigate the pain and symptoms.
Today, I felt fatigued and in pain, had a lot of gastrointestinal issues, and was irritated, so I did not work. I messaged my supervisor and have been spending time watching movies and journaling. Given that HR rejected my accommodations, I have to use PTO for the time I am set to be receiving chemotherapy. I looked today and only have 24 hours available. And then once that runs out I have to use unpaid time off. This will affect me financially, and I’m frustrated by the outcome of this situation. The GoFundMe page has been a lifesaver, and it’s been a lifeline. As the bills roll in, I’m also starting to sweat on that front, but I am glad for the reprieve everyone’s support has been providing. My plan for today was to set up a still life and draw; however, I’m experiencing light hand tremors (but not neuropathy), and this headache just increased some agitation and frustration that I did not want to wrestle with tonight. This will be an endeavor for another day.
Today, I’ve also been weepy as well. I need quality time with friends, and my brain has spiraled when that is not possible. I know they’re busy, and things are happening all around, yet the feeling of being forgotten and discarded remains. At the very least, there isn’t much to do when requests for FaceTime are ignored or not followed up on for days. It makes me sad, but again, I will cry about it and keep it moving. I also have to focus on the good, and I’ve just been really thankful for my life. I’ve navigated the challenges presented to me as best as I could. This life is my first rodeo, and I hope I’ve been as authentic and honest. I’ve made many mistakes, but I’m thankful for the lessons. I think of what life will be like after this. I will be cancer-free for the rest of my life and enjoy every human connection I make. I’m stumbling, but I will ultimately be okay. I have to be. I’m thankful for my therapist, helping me navigate this time of my life and presenting a mirror when I least want to see myself.
As I’m writing this, I am experiencing hot flashes. I’m tired and cranky. I’ll end this entry now.
My goal for tomorrow is to wake up and do some light exercises. I will seek a referral for a physical therapist to help me in this process. My upper body strength is nonexistent at this point, and due to the pain throughout my body, I just need guidance that the movements I am making are okay and that I’m not misreading any physical cues. I plan to work and get as much done. I also hope to call it an early night and sleep.