Chemopause.

A lot has happened since the last post. The leaves have fully changed.  I took a work trip (and wore my mask on the plane!).  My son turned 7.  We had his birthday party, birthday, and school Halloween party. 

Time is such a funny thing. When James was younger, I felt like time was flying.  He was growing up before my eyes, and I couldn't catch a breath.  But since Vivian came along, it feels like time has slowed down.  I feel like I've gotten to enjoy her babyhood, and James's big-brotherhood a little bit more.  Maybe it's a testament to my life circumstance now versus when he was a baby.  Back then, I was still at a law firm and traveling abroad every couple of weeks.  There was nothing to do but countdown the days until the next trip; and now I feel like I have some breathing room to just be.

I wouldn't mind if this whole chemo thing sped up, however.  Since the last post, I also had treatment #4.  I am now 2/3 of the way done with this horrible phase, but if I could just speed past the recovery stage, that would be stellar.  In fact, I often wait until I'm feeling well again before I blog after a treatment, because even looking at my pictures from infusion day makes my stomach turn.  But this whole blogging thing is for posterity, so here we go.

One of the...I guess I don't know if it's a perk or a negative... one of the things about chemo is:  chemopause. Medically induced menopause.  The chemo drugs shut down the ovaries, so no menstruating is happening.  Thinking back on it, I say I had "no" signs that something was amiss, but of course hindsight is 20/20 and I can't help but wonder if my sudden wonky periods had anything to do with what was growing in my body.  All of a sudden,  for months I had 22-24 day cycles, after a life time of 30+ day cycles.  I wondered then if I was going to go through early menopause, and now life has jokes.

I mentioned before that I have the type of tumors that are fed by estrogen and progesterone.  So I NEED my hormones to be shut down, because the opposite of being shut down is feeding the cancer.  And so I have settled in to the new normal, because ideally, chemopause will run into a daily hormone blocker pill which will run into actual menopause.  At the ripe old age of 39, I am dealing with...hot flashes.  I will be minding my own business when all of a sudden, I feel like someone put a space heater on my neck.  Jay has walked up to me and put his hand on my neck in the midst of a hot flash, and he immediately regretted the decision.  I ventured into the office last week before this chemo round, and our administrative assistant was standing in my office talking to me.  I had to peel off my cardigan while talking to her, because I was suddenly dying of heat stroke.  I told her what was going on, of course, and we had a good laugh while she welcomed me to the club. 

This goes on all throughout the day, and all throughout the night.  I don't know how many times I wake to throw covers off me, or how many times I wake because insomnia is also a side effect.  My oncologist suggested that we could do something about it, if it was too bad.  But frankly, the idea of taking another drug to counteract the many drugs I'm already taking is just not worth it.

So I deal.  And of course, to state the obvious, remaining in chemo/meno/pause means that with every birthday we celebrate, I am acutely aware that this is the youngest my babies will ever be.  I was good with these two kids in any event, and was not really willing to put my body through another pregnancy, but what was a personal decision became a medical decision.  I'm still okay with it generally, but just...aware.  I know I'm not alone here either, and this is yet another club that I have joined.

Here are some of my favorite pics of the birthday boy, in busier, simpler yet more complicated times.  I love my kids so.