Week 2 of 5 1/2 Weeks

This is fine…

This has simply been the hardest, harshest treatment I’ve received so far in the past 2 years. I can list all the details but doing so just makes me sick again. Being ill is my #1 beef. Each week starts with what we’re now calling a “Monster Monday” with Cisplatin, radiation, interferon, and a top-off of my 24×7 5FU drip. My biggest problem is staying ahead of the nausea.

It’s not going to get any easier either. The effects just keep getting more extreme until I get 2 weeks past the end of treatment, a little after Labor Day. I am living for just that now. I used to comment how easy this cancer was compared to what everyone else goes through with their own cancers (breast, colon, etc) and now I can say that I am right there with the others, at least with the chemo & radiation.

I can’t even say that the Whipple was worst. Sure it was massively invasive and far riskier, but most of the time I just kept getting better once it was over. I also knew the source of all the pains and restrictions. With this treatment everything comes at me from different directions and different times. I can’t be sure that I’ll always have a neutral reaction to things that hadn’t affected me much the previous week. What was OK then is not ok now. I’m not even sure if I can predict how I’ll feel from one day to the next.

My “apprehension nausea” is way strong now. Just to work myself up to go in next Monday is going to take a handful of Ativans; enough that Melissa will need to drive me there & back, ’cause I hope to be sedated to the point of compliance.

I think I finally found the side effects of the interferon yesterday. 2 Fridays back I was feeling OK & did lots of stuff, but yesterday I felt like I was getting chills as well as woozy as hell. That wooziness could have been the Ativan though, which I took a lot of, to kick a nausea cascade. Every day is different which is so unlike all my past chemo treatments.

Ah well. It will go away. I tell myself that at least every 10 minutes.

And at least I’m taking the medicine to make me get better. I am not being some whining stinking puke of a pseudo-patriot refusing to wear his mask. I’m not making up fantasy stories for justifying some kind of disgusting racist self-justification for crappy, mean behavior. And if I witness someone proselytizing for their version of super buddy, I will walk right over to them and barf in their lap.