It is wednesday at 1pm. I leave for my third chemo treatment in an hour. I feel like total shit.
Yesterday seemed like it was going well. I woke up feeling okay. Not 100%, but kind of like I had a hangover. I felt pretty okay going in to chemo.
While I was there I met a man named Bob who had finished the full Interferon sequence two months previous. He was in just to get IV fluids. He was still experiencing fatigue. He offered to answer questions. I asked him if it got better or worse, and he said that after the four weeks of high dose it pretty much stays the same. The first week is the worst. The fever and chills get better, but the fatigue builds through week four and doesn’t go away. I asked him if he had been able to go to work, and he paused for a bit, and said kinda: 3 to 4 days a week, for 5 hours a day. He said that by 2pm you are just done. Not physically tired, just done.
He remarked at how young I was. He was the next youngest, and he was mbe 50. Everyone else was in their 70s and above. The place was full, and loud. I was happy that I could meditate through it the way I did.
He also asked if I had a history of clinical depression. I told him that I didn’t, but that I had been put on prophylactic antidepressants by my Psychiatrist. He asked which, and I told him Lexapro. He noded, and said that is what he was on, and that it helped. Everyone asks about the depression factor. It must be serious.
Other than Bob, chemo was uneventful. We left and got home on time. I ate earlier than the day before. That helped a lot. I started to get a headache, as expected, but it wasn’t as bad as the day before. The headache built, but never peaked like it did the first day. My friend C came over, and we had a nice time hanging out. I haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving.
I felt so much better. I started to think this whole thing would be a piece of cake. right…
I curled up in bed and didn’t fall asleep. All night. I was restless, and nervous. I was afraid to take an Ambien on top of the Klonopin, so I didn’t. And so I didn’t sleep. As the night grew on and on, I tried music. I got up and then tried to go back to bed a second time. I even tried masturbating, b/c sometimes that release lets me sleep: I couldn’t even come b/c my left hand has the IV in it and it hurt too much to hold myself.
And plus, by that time I was getting cold. I didn’t really realize it happening, but I got cold. Really cold. By the time I realized it, I had the chills. I put on an extra blanket. But was still shivering. My dad came in at 630 to get me to take my next set of tylenol, but i was already wide awake. He seemed hurt that i hadn’t wakened him to put more blankets on me, but I didn’t even realize how cold I was. He went back to bed, and I put two more blankets on my bed.  Six total, I think. Mbe seven. Still cold, though slowly warming.
When my mom came in around 8pm with the dogs I finally was warm. I held one of the dogs for a moment, before she ran downstairs to go out for the morning pee. Then I finally fell asleep for two hrs.
I woke with a start at 10. Confused about where I was and what time it was. I knew I had to be somewhere, but couldn’t remember where and when. After jumping out of bed, I remembered I had physical therapy at 11.
Today I really am scared of the chemo. I was full of energy the last two days. Today I need to get my energy up. I feel like hell. Like the worst kind of hangover. No sleep.
Time to rest for the remaining 40 minutes before I have to go.
ADENDUM:
I leave in 5 minutes. I took a shower, changed my clothes, and pretended I was getting dressed for a sporting competition. A soccer match. Or a ski race. It worked. I’m amped up. I know I’m weak underneath, but I’m pumped on the surface. Ready for this. Ready right now. Tired, but ready.
Time to go.
