The port is healing well, I think: itchy, but only hurts when I turn or stretch too far. I got out yesterday afternoon for a 2-mile walk, and hope to manage that again today. It’s supposed to be above freezing! I worked a full day yesterday, and am doing the same today. Cherish the normal days while I have them, before I settle in to whatever the new normal will be.
Despite a minor mix-up with prescriptions (If you aren’t sure about something, ask!), I’ll be starting chemo on Monday. I spend some time at the infusion center Monday morning, then a home nurse hooks my port up for a 46-hour drip. I had the long phone call with the chemo nurse yesterday to talk about the port hook-up and all the things that could go wrong (side effects! allergic reactions! chemo spills! toxic bodily fluids! when to call 911!). I know it’s the equivalent of the fine print on the drug inserts, but it’s still rather scary.
The common side effects are nausea, diarrhea, cold sensitivity, and tingling or numbness in the fingers and toes. The first two are generally treatable with other drugs as long as you stay ahead of them (drugs first, and as prescribed; no waiting or messing around). Now is a great time to have cold sensitivity, and there’s not much to do about that except dress warmly and stay indoors. The fingers/toes? Could interfere with my planned knitting, but at least there’s plenty more Doctor Who to watch. I may not even lose my hair on this one.
Still, scary. I’ve felt fine so far, except for discomforts due to the necessities of the various diagnostic testing. I know that will end Monday, and that the treatment will make me far sicker than the disease has so far. I know it’s necessary, and I’m eager to get started, but oh how I don’t want to.
And then there are Things. Things Without Arms and Without Legs, that is. Some of my friends have been talking to me, some have been sending me cards and goodies, and some of my friends got together and sent me art. The artist, Liz Argall, asked if it could be posted publicly, and I said yes. So now I can share with you, Things talking to me. (Thank you to Fran Wilde, Kelly Lagor, Elizabeth Bear and A.C. Wise! [The ‘Spanish Inquisition’ was from a snarky remark I made while discussing my diagnosis, if you’re curious.])
I have this printed out where I can see it frequently, and it will help me through some of the rough times ahead. Along with the chocolate, and the tea, and the other good wishes. Support is good, whatever form it takes. Thank you all.
I’m glad the healing is going well and even though it wont be fun to start, glad you get to start chemo soon. The sooner the better, even if the treatment will suck. You are strong.
Sounds like you might need fingerless gloves and warm socks more than chemo caps! You should have your mom get you more of those toasty socks!
OMG! That comic is so wonderful! Now I want cancer, too!
One of my friends told me that if she’d know I wanted a gift basket she would have sent me one without me having to bother with all this cancer stuff.
So, I guess in the future if you hint that you’d like a gift basket, we’d better hop to it!
Heck, Sarah, I’ll go further than that. I’ll volunteer to try to make your fingers and toes tingle.
I draw the line at shaving you bald, though.
If you do find yourself getting cold, look for one of the small electric lap blankets. We have found that they are small enough not to be bulky, but large enough to be able to warm up your core body temperature, which is the problem you are most likely to encounter. Ours is really popular with the cats, too!
Dear Sarah,
Looking forward to your recovery and your dealing with this both as a scientist and as a writer that can express your road of recovery.
Please know that you are not alone, that is what I was told when in the hospital in 1975. I haven’t felt alone sense.
Love,
I got the ‘fingers and toes’ thing with one of the chemos I went through and have residual peripheral neuroapathy as a long-term effect. Vitamin B12 seems to help reduce the pins-n-needles effect, so you may want to ask your docs about it if you start having that side effect. Just out of curiosity, is “death” one of the potential side effects that you should call 911 about? Because it was a listed side effect for me, but not one that actually warranted calling a doctor according to the literature I received.
Hi Sarah:
Good luck with this week. I fully expect to have pizza at Faccia Luna with you and the old pasture gang someday so hang in there.
Thanks, Elizabeth. I’ll ask about B12. Death wasn’t listed in the nurse’s rundown, but I imagine it’s on the list somewhere. When I get the formal papers I’ll look.