One week later, and still not dying

Hello everyone!

So, it's been exactly a week since my first ABVD treatment, and I'm happy to report that I'm still alive and kickin'. I mentioned in my earlier post that I was drugged up with a LOT of anti-nausea pills, so that is probably why I've been doing so well. I am not sure what the standard protocol is for prescription recommendations -- I imagine it varies somewhat doctor to doctor -- but my team at the U of M's Masonic clinic seems to have everything down to a science. Phew!

While I have had minimal nausea, I have had a few other side effects, including:

• Fatigue: This so far has been minimal, but I did notice around day 4 and day 5 that I felt much more run down than usual. Of course, this is probably because I haven't been sleeping as well --  however, I suspect this is due to lower back issues, rather than chemo. Here's some context: I sleep on a plush, pillowtop bed that feels like heaven the first hour or so. After that, though, all hell breaks lose -- at least for me. I wake up in the middle of the night, sunken in the bed, with atrocious lower back pain. Pillows between the legs, different positions -- none of this prevents the inevitable. 

The reason for this is over the past few years, I have grown accustomed to my very firm NYC Ikea bed -- probably not the best quality, but my back got used to it and I had two years of GREAT sleep. Now, everything I come home, whether it be for vacations or holidays, I have issues adjusting to this bed. I would have hoped that after close to a month, my body would adjust, but that's not the case. Alas! I am resorting to sleeping with CVS heating pads wrapped around my back. If I didn't already have the sleeping habits of a 70 year old woman (Vics Vapor Rub, eye covering, ear plugs), I'd start to worry. However, there are worse things in life than being reliant on a heating pad.

• Tingly fingers: Also around day 4 or 5, I noticed that the sensations in my finger tips were a little off. They are not exactly numb, but they are chronically in that borderline tingly state, which is pretty annoying. I didn't remember my medical team mentioning anything about this, so of course I hop on to Dr. Google and find that many other people going through ABVD have also experienced this, and it is likely due to the increase in Uric Acid given off by the dying cancer cells. Ahhh, so that's why I was given a prescription for Allopurinol! Apparently this is supposed to limit this side effect, so maybe I need a higher dosage? It's really not that big of a deal as far as side effects go -- it's more annoying than anything else -- but then again, if modern medicine has deemed it possible for me to have full sensation in my finger tips, that's probably something I should pursue, right?

• Godzilla Mode: My amazingly creative friend Jenna coined a marvelous term in college: Godzilla Mode. This term can be used to explain a state where your body doesn't feel quite right with the world -- usually after a night of drinking. You might be clumsy, have a cloudy/achy brain, and snap at other creatures who get in your way. Whether this is a side effect of the chemo, my lack of quality sleep, or somewhat lack of intellectual stimulation --I'm not currently working, which is starting to drive me crazy -- I hope that Godzilla Mode is only temporary, because after 6 months of this I won't be responsible for any crazy actions, including knocking over buildings, breaking the ice maker (already done that), or flooding the kitchen with said broken ice maker (again, already done it).

Other things of interest:

• Diet: So far, I've been eating my standard diet of mostly protein + fat + fruits/veggies, with the occasional indulgence in some sort sort of carby snack. There has also been a lot of Chipotle in my life, which I'm not complaining about since my usual (veggie fajita bowl) is only $6.50 here, compared to $9.00 in NYC. A lot of the cancer literature recommends somewhat tempering your diet and avoiding lots of fats/proteins in favor of carbs, like pastas and rice, which are in theory easier for your stomach to digest. Since I had minimal nausea to begin with, I didn't think that was necessary, especially since we all know how bad a low fat, high carb diet is for you. The one thing I might have to watch out for is how much fresh produce I'm consuming. When my immune system really starts to turn to shit, it might be a good idea to lay off raw stuff for awhile, since my body will be especially prone to infection and food-borne illnesses. There are worse things in life than steamed veggies! 
• Alcohol: Aside from one of my beloved Spotted Cows a few days ago in honor of my college friend Cassandra visiting, I have been holding off on any alcohol. Again, this is not because I feel nauseated, but rather I'm worried that alcohol could trigger nausea. The beer I had a few days ago tasted fine and didn't cause anything major in my insides, so I might treat myself this weekend to a drink or two. My medical team says a drink here and there is totally fine -- and for some patients who lose their appetites it's actually encouraged. After all, who doesn't want some sort of snack after drinking a beer? 
• Exercise: Luckily, I've also been able to stay fairly active this last week. While I haven't gone to any intense exercise classes, I have been walking, biking, and doing pilates. Dr. Peterson said there really isn't a limit on exercise, and to just do what I feel comfortable with, so I might live dangerously and try a zumba class this weekend.
• Hair: I've still got it! Dr. Peterson says it usually falls out 2-3 weeks after the first treatment, so I guess I'm not in the clear yet, but it feels thicker than ever with my new shorter 'do, and I'm hoping I am one of those lucky 1% that might come out of this thing with something that resembles a full head of hair.

My next chemo appointment is on Thursday, September 18th. After that I will be 1/6 of the way done. Part of me thinks that sounds like a huge accomplishment, then the other part of me realizes that I will still have 10 more treatments to go. I was half joking with my mom that I wish I could just be in a medically-induced coma for 6 months as my body fights of The Hodge just because I'm already sick of dealing with it and putting my life on hold. Zen, please come to me, because I am way too impatient to wait for you.