Blue is the only colour

3 weeks since my last chemo --I would be getting another round tomorrow if I wasn't done. I'm feeling more exhausted than ever before and a complete emotional basket case. I can't seem to keep it together. I'm blue, bored, unstable and panicky. I'm even, dare I say it, depressed. What the hell is that a side effect of? I took my last antibiotic yesterday and there are no more pills to take, so that can't be it. I don't get it. I thought I'd be happier once chemo was over with. But it's the opposite. I seem to be less happy. I've been working so hard at protecting myself and keeping my head above water while the cell killing juice works it's magic and saves my ass... Maybe it's just all catching up to me now that my guard is down. In other words, I'm crashing. Hard.

I have also lost my entire muscle mass. I guess it took 6 rounds to kill off all my muscle cells. They hurt for no reason and are very weak --almost fell getting off the bus the other day. Wanted to start running again next week, but that just might kill me. At least my appetite has returned to normal after the steroids almost made me open my own restaurant. Sigh, my arms are the size of huge sausages, and I feel like one big blob of fat. I think I look like one too. Actually, it's more Dopey or Buddha I see when I look in the mirror. Not a good thing. Where did I go?

Have I wallowed enough? I hope that soon I won't feel the need to. I've gotta be in here somewhere...

Mean beached whale

So my heart hurts and keeps racing. For the last few days, I've been having what feels like heart muscle cramps, or lung cramps or something else located in my chest. Whatever it actually is, it's nothing if not disconcerting. It's worrying me quite a bit because I saw my nuclear cardiac test results in my chart and it said "abnormal" on it. Also, last time I was in the hospital, the emergency doctor asked me if anyone had ever mention to me a heart murmur. GREAT. What now? I see my oncologist next month for my follow up, so I'll ask to have those results explained to me --will also be getting another cardiac test. That's routine after chemo.

Add this heart stuff to me looking like a beached whale with all this steroid swelling, and the overall aggressiveness, mood swings, crying fits and irritability I've been experiencing (another steroid side effect), you get one messed up girl. Thank god D and C de Lune know me enough to know that I'm acting out of character. Not sick per say, just drugged out of my mind. I don't remember it being this bad the last couple of rounds, so I guess it's the accumulation in my system. Once I'm done the antibiotics, I think I'm going to fast for a day or two, drink lots of lemon water and detox the crap out of myself (no pun intended). But for now, I'm terrified this is not temporary. I don't want to stay swollen and mean for the rest of my life. An unreasonable fear, maybe. But still a very real one.

Tunnel, light...

So that's it. I'm starting to feel better after my last ever chemo. And I mean EVER --will do whatever it takes to keep it that way. But as I say that, if it ever was to happen again, I know I would get through it. I took my last anti-nausea pill a few days ago and my last steroid last night. I still have to get through day 5 to 10 of the round, which is when I have no immune system. Today is day 7. Got a whole bottle of antibiotics to get through before I'm clear of infections. Next week the picc line comes out before the beach trip. Looking forward to that, although it is a great invention I have very much appreciated. Lets just say I avoided about 15 blood tests and 10 IV's by having it - and that's lots and lots of painful, yucky needles.

Once this cancer experience is over, I want to use my blog to talk about what I'm learning in my research to be healthy, and make sure me and my loved ones live in a healthy environment. I don't wanna preach or become a nut case about it -- just share what I know. All those chemical, toxins, hormones and processed crap out there seems so overwhelming and unavoidable, but if you think of a few years ago, no one wanted to hear or to talk green. And look what's happening now...

Chemo round #last-and-never-again

Tomorrow is my last chemo round and my friend L is coming with me. Not sure how I feel about it--the chemo, not the friend coming with :). It's somehow a bitter sweet experience and I'm not sure why. Will try to talk it out and see.

The biggest part of me, the self preservation part of me is beyond-words-happy about it. The roller coaster of illness ends, the threat of infection and possible death goes away (that's a big one), the picc line gets removed (hurray for real bath and swimming), my hair, eye brows and eye lashes starts growing back, and I recuperate for 3 months. Work starts again in early October and life goes on. However, it's not over yet: major surgery is yet to come and the oncology team will try to get me to go on the anti-hormone therapy.

The other part of me if worried. Chemo and being sick has been part of my life for the last 4 months. Cancer has had been part of my life since October. I know it sounds odd and possibly wrong, but I got used to it and it's part of my life now. How will I adapt to normal life again? How will I feel about not being followed closely by my doctors and nurses? How will it be to be like everyone else again? I'm not stupid --I know this is all good and I never want to be on chemo again. I'm just feeling odd.

Need to do something

I found out today that 7 women in my neighbourhood between the ages of 20 and 35 have breast cancer. My first thought was is there something in the air? But no. It's sort of typical --scary, by typical. Early detection, more survivors mean more patients. I'll still ask my doctor's opinion on it though. What worries me more is that I never see these women around, even though I walk Oli all the time. This is because apparently, they never leave their house. Some are depressed, feel alone and are not coping well, while others probably deal with it in the safety and privacy of their own home. My nurse and doctor keep telling me I'm doing very well but I never realized I was at the top of the coping spectrum. Geez. I have to do something. I need to help. I wanna turn my cancer experience into something productive, positive. I have something to offer, to share.

I'm going to try to get in contact with these women and see if they would come over for tea or rum :), either on their own or all together. I don't want to intrude, but for those who feel alone and wish they were feeling differently, maybe knowing me could help. I'm sure going to try --pushy thing that I am. People keep telling me I have positive energy that's contagious. Let's see if cancer patients can catch it too.

10 laps for life

Friday night was the Relay for Life to end cancer at Millenium Park in Orleans. Both my neighbour T and my neighbours C and F's daughter and her spouse were walking all night to raise money to fight my disease. Just to prove how everyone you know has been affected by it in some way or another. D, C. de Lune and I went out to show support for our friends and stayed for 2 hours. It was an experience I'll never forget. All those people camped out, walking and running lap after lap to help me. I know, they weren't there helping me directly, and yet, they were --I have directly benefited from that support. If there's one thing I can say about cancer treatments is that it's obvious just how far raised money goes. This new chemo I'm on, the more effective yet less side-effecting one, was still in clinical trials in 2003! Think about it: when we were kids cancer was a death sentence. Now it's like a bad dream, a sickness that can practically be cured if caught early enough. I will not die from this, I'm certain of it. C de Lune was amazing. I told her in the car what this event was for and when I used the C word for the first time she said "I know cancer mummy". No kidding. Then when I told her the point of the Relay was to help heal people like me, she told her dad to drive faster! My kid. Gotta love her. But the best of it all was how she ran 10 laps for me, on her own, faster than most adults, not showing any signs of stopping. People were watching her, shock on their face. And she would have kept going. Words cannot express just how proud I was. Next year, she says, we are running all night.

Doing alright

This round, so far, has been much easier on me. I'm doing very well --maybe the summer weather is helping. I'm on preventative antibiotics right now but my tongue is still very white --it's thrush, a bacteria that can overgrow when your immune system is down. No fever so far, no pain and lots of appetite. But I'm off the steroids now so the bone pain might still come. I hate waiting for something like that. Cancer and chemo in particular are teaching me a lot about living in the moment. I have no real choice, really, because when I'm sick, it's hard to believe it will go away, and when I'm feeling good, I don't wanna think of the next round of getting sick. It's a good lesson I hope will stay with me. I just hope I can out of the hospital from now until Sunday, because a house full of pirates without me could be disastrous.