My hair

It's definite, my hair has started to fall out. Not in big chunk like I imagined, but in the normal hair falling way, just much more at a time. If I pull a bit, I can hear it break at the root. Nothing gross, just very real. The big chunks might happen on my pillow tomorrow morning, though. Probably. Most likely. I keep hoping for a miracle, hoping I'm different somehow, hoping I have so much hair on my head that it can't all fall out, but who am I kidding. I wish I looked like Natalie Portman for the next little while. She did the bald head so well. Sigh. I'm scared.

My own scar

I'm thinking of getting a tattoo when this is all over. I see it as a scar I decide to have, a scar I have control over. This is an idea I've been playing with on and off for years now. Last year, I finally decided where it would go if I was to get one: outer upper arm, almost at the shoulder --that never really wrinkles, does it? It would have to be the left arm now since I can't get anything done to my right, thanks to lymph node removal. I keep toggling on the whole thing though. But lately a friend told me the legend of Amazon women cutting off their right breasts to shoot their arrows with more precision and it got me thinking. I made the decision to remove my breasts to kill something bad. Maybe a bow and arrow would be appropriate. No? I'm still thinking. And I'm afraid of the needle. Yeah, yeah, I know, I've got a tube up my arm now, so what's the big deal? Still. I HATE NEEDLES.

TV thinking

I'm watching a lot of tv lately (mostly HGTV) since I feel I'm suffering from a permanent flu. When I look at all the people in the shows, my first though is how the're not sick and I am. All these healthy people and I'm sick. It's very hard for me to see myself in my post cancer life --this feels like it'll last forever. Then I think "what if Sarah Richardson suddently had cancer?" I would be thinking "my god, poor her, that's horrible!" Then of course, I think "oh wait, that's me!" What can I do but get through it as best i can, but it's geting harder to stay positive. I'm just sad, I guess.

The plan

I've been nursing a bad cold the last few days --I hope it's bad just because it is, not because of chemo. But today I had to get out of the house, especially that D is back at work and I'm so very bored. So I went to lunch with my friend L, then to the mall. I bought nice scarves and a bit of makeup. I haven't worn makeup in years, but I feel if I don't while I'm bald and white, I will just disappear. Anyways, bought good no Paraben stuff because I'm on a military mission to save my ass. Since I know that stupid tumor was hormonal receptive and therefore fed by something specific they know of, and that the mutation gene is NEGATIVE (woot!), I feel I can do something to prevent this hell from ever hitting me again. This is the plan:

1. I'm not sure about the whole hormone blocking therapy that will put me into early menopause. I rather wait until it starts naturally, then go on the drugs. But my oncologist has other plans and I might have to convince him. Either way, I'm undecided.

2. No more puberty. That should be easy.

3. No more taking the pill. In hindsight, taking the pill was better than having a baby when I wasn't ready, but I took it for 9 years and back then, it was high in hormones. That said, I would take it again if I was 17.

4. No more plastic #7. It's full of Benophenol A (in other words, estrogen). This year the government warned us about this. It's in baby bottles (that was me in the 70's), spring water bottles in dispensers at work (been drinking that for 10 years), and other containers we drink and eat from. It's even having effect on mens' reproductive system.

5. No more meat injected with hormones, which red meat is, unless you buy the "free from" kind.

6. The sad one. No more babies for me. This is a decision I/we made before cancer, and they are not protecting my reproductive system during chemo because of this decision, but since pregnancy spikes hormones, I don't think it would be a good idea.

That's my plan.

What if?

What if tomorrow, someone told you you have cancer? How would you feel? Incredulous? I still feel that way. Having cancer never becomes part of life. It's not that I don't believe it or refuse to accept it, but I feel I'm standing at the window of my life, looking in. I am undergoing cancer treatments. I have chemo drugs is my body. I'm counting the days until I loose my hair. And there's nothing I can do about it all. You're afraid of heights? To bad, cause you have to jump... It's all too twilight zone. It's impossible. This can't be my life.

Choke on this

The day after chemo, i.e. yesterday, was a bit of a never ending living nightmare. I was sick. So very sick. Nauseous and vomiting, and icky all over. I slept most of the day since I couldn't really stay upright. Then it got much worse at 7 pm. My tongue started doing odd things, falling back in my throat without me being able to control it. Then it swelled up and it was apparent that I was close to choking. Claire went to the neighbours --love you T-- and D drove me to the ER. I swear, the amount of traffic laws he broke was preposterous, but necessary. I ran in with my hands full of meds, saying "Help, I've had chemo and I'm having an allergic reaction!". Well let me tell you those are the magic ER words. Then injected me with all 4 anti histamines within minutes of arriving (thank god for the picc line) and I was fine within 5 minutes. Had to stay under observation until 2 am, and I now have an epipen. It seems I'm allergic to FEC, my type off chemo. HA! So very ironic. The oncologist will have to reassess it all. Not to worry, I will still get chemo, just another cocktail. I'm fine though. Just high on steroids and low or Benadril. Bad mixture, let me tell you.

Side effect territory

In case you're not Twittering or Facebooking, this is for you: I'm feeling sick to my stomach despite the 18$ a pills anti-nausea drug. Apparently though, vomiting is not acceptable so if I do, I'm to call my nurse to get a juicy shot. Bleh, feel nauseous and my mouth is pasty (fast multiplying cells that they are). As for the experience itself, it was fine, even pleasant. Nurses are nice and sympathetic and there are lots of windows and stuff. I cried of course, seeing the first drug go into my arm since it was bright red and well, what's to expect? But I didn't feel anything. I got to suck on a freezy during the second drug to protect my mouth cells, and had sinus issues with the third drug. All totaled, including blood test, we were there for 5 hours. The chemo drugs on their own took no more than 1:30. Now I'm in side effect territory and I feel sick. Need more drugs or my lunch will come out. Sooon.

Chemo's eve

Here we are, or I guess I should say here I am, on the eve of chemo. If you ask me, chemo is as near hell as I ever want to be. I know there are worse things to live through, and at least I know what it is and I'm confident I can cope with it. Actually, I can think of much, much worse things that are way closer to hell, so forget I said anything. It's still chemo though. Sigh. I'm in the dark feeling my way around something I think I might recognise. I feel like I'm waiting for a sentence to start. I've spent my whole life avoiding putting crap into myself and now I'm voluntarily letting them slow drip not one, but 3 different poisons in me, plus anti-nausea drugs. Yes people, I'm getting the "nasty" dose. I know it's "for my own good", but that fact doesn't make it any easier. After tomorrow, the me I know at this moment will no longer exist. "I" most likely will come back, but I doubt I'll hear or feel like me for awhile. With the nausea and vomitting, and the hair loss, and the mouth sores and the temporary menopausal side effects, I'll be so much fun. Sink or swim, sink or swim... I'll go to bed now, before I sink. I'll keep you posted as best I can. Promise.

Sci-fi like

My week is going to be different from what I had expected. Good thing I like surprises, because there are plenty going around right now. Got the flu on the weekend (a cruel joke, if you ask me since I got a glimpse of nasty nausea). Consequently, my chemo info session and the start of chemo was pushed back a week. The radiation consultation is still on for tomorrow though. I found out my hair could fall out as fast as 10 days after my first round, and I got my prosthetics. That was an odd, yet normal feeling experience, and they look surprisingly real. That should make me feel better this summer, with the tubes coming out of my arm and my bald head and all. I was thinking, I get myself an orange wig and I can be Leyloo from the Fifth Element --flat chested and sci-fi like. Maybe it's more realistic to raid my friend's closet for all her nice scarves. I'll ask...I have the cancer card, after all.

Crazy busy

This next week is going to be crazy busy. See a friend today and go to physiotherapy, therapy tomorrow and see family, brain tests on Thursday (for clinical trials) and see another friend, Friday I leave for the weekend to go see an old friend, Monday I get prosthetics measured and see more friends, Tuesday is dentist and the chemo-for-dummies session, Wednesday is eye doctor and the oncology-radiation appointment, and Thurday the 12th is the first round of chemo. That's what I said: CRAZY BUSY. At least I won't have much time to think about it all, I'll just be on automatic pilot. Amen for loved one.