A Spork in the Road

Had my blood work on Tuesday, and my white counts were very low. So I’ve been doing Neupogen this week to rescue my immune system.

The last couple days I’ve finally been feeling peppy again. They say you can’t feel when your white counts are low, but I’ll tell you, I felt like I’d been wrung out the first couple of days of the week, and now my counts are back up I feel a whole lot better. Might be coincidental, but in any event, I’m feeling better and very excited about this upcoming landmark Tuesday.

My hair is growing in much thicker already, but I’m getting it shaved down one last time to erase the sad little bald spot I have on the top of my head from wearing my headphones when my hair was still prone to fall out easily.

I’m looking forward to having real eyebrows again. And eyelashes. My eyes look naked if I don’t wear eyeliner.

Also nose hair. Very excited about having nose hair again.

Ah, cancer. The things we care about.

Afternoon Update: Just took my last Neupogen shot! As I was plunging the needle into my belly fat, it occurred to me that this is probably the last time I’ll be giving myself a shot for a long time!

Well, not EVER, one hopes. The last waturday after chemo, though. The last dopey, cotton-headed, rotten-mouthed, achy jointed, hot flashing Saturday after chemo.

Saturday I was fatigued: as in, I got out of breath from standing. As in, walking across a parking lot required a force of will. As in, I could close my eyes and go to sleep at any moment.

Sunday was better: more pain (in my joints, skin), less fatigue, less mental cloud. I prefer pain to lethargy. Better to ache but be able to think.

Today the pain has mostly subsided, the fatigue is hovering but not smothering, and I look forward to increasing alertness through the week.

Best of all, a week from tomorrow I go in for blood work, not chemo! Hurrah!

My last chemo fog, and so easier for me to bear. A fog nonetheless. Sluggish brain, neurons trying to fire through taffy. Taste buds asleep: Powerade tastes different from water while being entirely flavorless.

I can taste feta cheese and onions. If you can’t taste feta cheese and onions, you’re probably dead.

Waiting for steroids to kick in. My last steroids. (I hope, I hope, I hope. Every time I say “last,” I hope it’s true.) When they kick in I’ll be dopey but energized, instead of dopey but sluggish: doing stupid things faster.

Still, I’m managing to get things accomplished, one by one. Task by task. Dragging my addled wits together long enough to complete a task, then letting them wander for a while before corralling them again.

My last chemo is over.

Now, we wait three months and do another PET scan. Hope that the cancer is gone for good. Then regular PET scans, spreading out to every six months and then to every year and then, at the five year mark, I’m proclaimed cured.

Next step: fight the insurance company, which of course doesn’t want to cover you if you’re actually sick with anything.

And start to detox. The poisons have done their job, now it’s time to clean out.

Today I’m flying high on steroids and delight. I’m determined to feel well enough Friday night to sit downtown for the Celtic Festival and movie in the park (Brigadoon, of course).

I leave you with two more quotes from Chapter 35 of Dickens’ Bleak House:

In falling ill, I seem to have crossed a dark lake, and to have left all my experiences, mingled together by the great distance, on the healthy shore.

And on another topic entirely, but no less true for that:

I said it was the not custom in England to confer titles on men distinguished by peaceful services, however good and great; unless occasionally, when they consisted of the accumulation of some very large amount of money.

…to quote Jean Valjean and company.

Tomorrow is my last chemo. (At least, I hope so!) I am very, very excited.

With my oncologist’s blessing (and despite my nurses’ protestations), I’m skipping my last Neulasta shot. If my white blood cell counts plunge too far, I’ll have to do daily Neupogen shots, but I’m hoping to get away with it. It’s one less weird chemical to pump into my body.

24 hours from right now, I should be finishing up and getting ready to sleep off my last chemo.

Woo-hoo!