A.C.

Since I wrote a B.C. - Before Chemo, it only seems right to do an A.C. - After Chemo.  I don't know why it's been so hard to write this.  Maybe because it seems like it should feel more celebratory than it does?  Maybe because I don't feel magically better?  Maybe because I still have so much left to do in this process, that celebrating feels a little too preemptive?

But all of this is to journal the process, and this is certainly a step in the process.

So, three weeks after finishing my last chemo, I had to check into the infusion center again for the next Herceptin infusion.  I met with my oncologist first, who checked my bloodwork.  As you may recall, I had a history of low platelets throughout treatments, and was sent home from chemo three times because of it.  Normal platelet levels are 150-450 x10E3/uL.  Before chemo started, mine were 210.  As of Tuesday's bloodwork, they were at 31.

I knew it was going to be bad news because I had tell-tale signs: random bruising on my legs, from doing nothing but living in the house.  My legs were covered in bruises.  That, and my nurse looked like she was about to deliver some bad news.  This didn't affect my ability to have Herceptin, so the infusion went on.  But it does have major implications for my surgery.  Is three and a half weeks going to be enough for my platelets to rebound to a safe-enough level for my surgery?  Delaying surgery is going to have big ramifications for other things in life, such as speaking at a large industry conference in Orlando in March, followed immediately by our vacation.  As it is, I will be cutting it close with surgery recovery.

I'm also re-adjusting to life without a million meds.  On top of the EIGHT medications that are administered through IV on chemo day, the above photo contains all of the medications I was on throughout chemo.  Biotene, Gelclaire, Magic Mouthwash, and Metaquil are all mouthwashes.  Some to assist with dry mouth, some prescription-strength to assist with the burned tongue feeling and tongue sores, and one to help with the metallic taste.  Then I had Ondansetron - Zofran - and then Zuplenz, which is Zofran in listerine strip form for the point when I started gagging on pills each cycle.  And then Compazine, another nausea med that didn't make me feel great in other ways.  Then Omeprazole, for the outrageous, raging heart burn and even 40mg wasn't enough on most days.  Then Meclizine, for the vertigo induced by chemo meds.  And then the imodium and, not pictured, banana flakes when I couldn't take pills, to get me through the GI distress that hit on day 5 or 6. And then the Ativan to sprinkle in twice a day to help manage nausea that wasn't covered by the Zofran and Compazine, possibly because it helped manage the anxiety of feeling sick forever.  It felt kind of cathartic to put all these meds together and...kind of ceremoniously say goodbye to most of them.

My hair.  I made it through all six cycles with most of my hair.  I thought I was making it through with really ALL of my hair, until one day after the fifth cycle I ventured out and had my hair pulled back in a bun.  I went to look at something in the mirror, and noticed for the first time that I was missing a lot of hair at my sideburns. It wasn't the same on the other side.  

 I thought I had been prepared for this.  Before chemo, I ordered some stuff called Toppik, that you spray on missing patches of hair to cover it.  I bought Jamaican black castor oil to assist in regrowth.  I spoke with a wig maker, in case my results were not as good as I wanted and I needed an interim fix.  I bought biotin to stimulate regrowth.  And I was so pleasantly surprised when I didn't need any of it, but was happy I had prepared.  But apparently I wasn't prepared.  The night I discovered the hair loss, I dreamed that I was running, and I had to duck under some brush, and my hair caught on a bunch of branches and I had to tug to get it loose.  And it immediately ripped out about 1/4 of my hair, and I just started sobbing.  I woke up crying.  I was not okay with it.

I have since gotten over it, and thanked my lucky stars that this is all I had to deal with.  I found some other areas where I had hair loss, identified because I have hair regrowth!  I had heard that cold capping helped hair grow back faster, but didn't realize it was working on me until that moment.  I've been warned to prepare for continued, and perhaps worse, shedding in the months following chemo, so I'm not out of the woods yet, and am still babying my hair as though I'm cold capping.

My eyebrows and eyelashes are not going to make it.  My Jamaican black castor oil is being put to good use after all.  This was taken a couple weeks ago, and I have even fewer eyebrows now. Check out the few under-eye lashes that are the real MVPs, hanging in there.  I hear I will regrow, and re-lose, my eyebrows and eyelashes several times over the next several months, so I'm buckled in with my eye pencils and eye liners and ready.

This is of course just vanity.  I do notice a different person when I look in the mirror.  I know it's temporary, and I'm adjusting.  And I think I will continue adjusting until this whole ordeal is over.

But for now, I made it.