Chemo #8: Oh hai, chemover

Remember way back in the day when I was a little cancer n00b and had this horrendous fear that chemo would be like a 6 month hangover? Luckily, my 7 seven treatments went relatively well with no nausea and pretty manageable fatigue levels. Well, dear readers, number 8 (aka 2/3 of the way done!) has been a little bit more tricky. The doctors warned me that the effects of chemo are cumulative -- meaning that they get worse with time. Well, it seems like this little lady finally had her first taste of a real session of chemotherapy. By real, of course, I mean shitty.

If you haven't seen The Room, starring, directed by, written by, created by, edited by, etc, the handsome devil above, Tommy Wiseau, drop what you're doing right now and watch it -- preferably at a midnight screening where an abundance of spoons will be thrown.

Now, before I give you all of the gory details, I want to stress that things still aren't that bad. I haven't puked or anything, and I don't think I will. But I will say that I'm feeling very much like I have one of those infamous Freshman Year Hangovers that would plague me every so often during the mid-aughts. However, way back then, all it took was a shower, some caffeine, and some greasy dorm food to cure it, meaning I was only suffering for a few hours. Oh, to be young again!

This time, I'm over 24 hours out and still feeling pretty icky.

It all started a few days before my infusion. I was reading some other hodge blogs with some really graphic descriptions of nausea. At the time I thought, "Wow, that really sucks. I feel so lucky I'm not going through it." Then I got to a passage about scents, and how certain medical scents would send them over the edge into Nausea Land. Then I started to think about certain scents in my infusion room, such as alcohol swabs and the general scent of really sterile air that doesn't get much outside circulation. Then I started just imagining the chemo drugs hanging on the IV rack and felt a wave of nausea come over me. "Oh no", I thought, "I'm having anticipatory nausea!" Anticipatory nausea can be a big problem, which is why, from the start, my doctor made sure that I had a hefty diet of anti-nausea drugs in my IV, plus three days of additional steroids, to make sure that I was well-covered on the nausea front. Up until this week, it had done the trick!

Unfortunately, this anticipatory nausea carried into actual infusion day. It didn't help that I had some vein drama (yeah, yeah, I should have gotten a port, blah blah blah!) which required a call to "Vascular Access", a team of medical staff whose job it is to go from department to department administering IVs. Pulling out the big guns! So, since my formerly "juicy" arm veins (that is actually how they've been described, no joke) now seemed to be getting shy, they had to resort to the veins on the back of my hand, which for some irrational reason really grossed me out. I think it's because I secretly worry that my hands look like Angelina Jolie's, and I don't want the chemo drugs to somehow make them even more prominent.

So, it was in this context -- the back-of-the-hand IV and my 3 days of anticipatory nausea -- that the drugs started flowin'!

Luckily, the rest of the infusion went pretty effortlessly, and I was done at around noon (though I did feel little waves of nausea, or mock-nausea). I spent a lazy afternoon napping, cuddling with the pup, and watching Gilmore Girls, and feeling really tired and borderline nauseated (again, was it just in my head?). So, I decided to take a Compazine, which is an anti-nausea pill that they prescribed (which also dubs as an anti-psychotic -- maybe they are trying to tell me something?!) that I haven't used before since I haven't had a need. It seemed to help with the nausea. In fact, I was even able to go out later that night with the Meslows for the amazingly wonderful Fezzywig's Feast and actually eat my food without feeling queasy!

Which brings us to today. Thinking about chemo makes me nauseated, but as long as I don't think about it, I seem to be okay. This makes me fairly certain that I still haven't felt real nausea (thank god!), and that I'm, indeed, suffering from a case of anticipatory nausea, which I'm hoping I can nip in the bud before chemo #9, which will represent being 3/4 of the way done with ABVD! That being said, I still feel like I got hit by a bus on the fatigue front, which usually happens to me about 5 days after an infusion. Usually, the immediate days after my infusion I feel great, thanks a large part, I think, to the steroids, so I'm hoping this isn't the new normal, as I was kind of getting used to having 13 good days and just 1 bad day.

Other than my self-induced anticipatory nausea, here are a few more updates on the borderline TMI medical front:

• The "nosebleeds" are still alive and well. I put nosebleeds in quotes because they're not straight up nosebleeds, but rather I have blood in my tissue every single time I blow my nose (which is a lot because it's winter and all -- and I have a big nose). This has been going on for about two months and is related to having low platelets and to being on blood thinners.
• Speaking of blood thinners, I admit, I'm finally (kind of) getting used to the twice a day injections. I STILL DON'T LIKE THEM, but they have somehow managed to make their way into my daily routine and become a little less painless (okay, icing pre and post injection has also helped, too, so if you ever find yourself in the unfortunate position of taking blood thinners and getting GIGANTIC bruises because of them, make sure to ice -- it makes all the difference!). A special shout out to my parents and Scott, the members of Team Jab who administer my shots because I'm still too squeamish. 
• The Neulasta spine pain has happened the past two doses. As I've mentioned in some other posts, many patients have a really hard time with this medication, as it can cause extreme bone pain. Thankfully, I haven't had any bone pain but I have had some moderate spine pain. This is kind of hard to explain, but it gets worse with sharp inhales or if I sit in certain positions. Luckily, it only lasts a day or two per cycle and is pretty manageable. Here's to hoping it stays that way because, quite frankly, I love the stuff for keeping my WBC counts up and keeping me on my chemo schedule! Maybe if my grand career plans to work on higher ed administration don't work out, I can work for Big Pharma! Neulasta, I'll be back on the job hunt after treatment, any chance you guys are hiring? 
• The hair is still looking very male pattern baldish, but thankfully it hasn't really changed much since the original awful Hair Exodus, which occurred about 2 weeks after my first infusion. So, this means that unless I am sleeping, I am wearing a wig or a hat at all times (I've stayed away from scarves unless I'm at the gym, as they just SCREAM cancer). Though I do like to sometimes dramatically fling off said wig/hat in front of my mom and sister at random times to make them laugh. It is quite a site!
• Speaking of hair, I still have my eyebrows and eyelashes, but they do seem to be thinning a bit. The main reason I think this is less that they look noticeably thinner, but they do -- at least to me -- look lighter. So, unless a steady bleaching of eyelashes and eyebrows is a side effect of chemo that I'm unaware of, I think they look lighter because I have less of them. Hold on, little guys, I just have a few short months left!
• So far, I've managed to avoid much weight gain. I fluctuate a little bit here and there, but I think that's all it is. I've read blogs of people who gain 20, 30, even 60 lbs because of treatment. Ahhh! I think it's safe to say that I'll make it through pretty much unscathed. I don't think this is because I'm lucky per say, but rather that I've been lucky to feel well enough to go to the gym. Many are not so lucky. Considering I haven't been drinking very much and exercising a few times a week (though still eating normally), if I was healthy I would be losing weight, so I imagine if I wouldn't be able to work out I would have jumped on the weight gain train as well.

That's about it! Though this post has been totally dedicated to talking about icky chemo side effects, they have still been pretty minimal in the grand scheme of things, and for the most part I've been able to go about my normal routines, such as working, hanging out with friends, and the like. I'm going to put an extra focus on NOT thinking about how gross chemo can be and psyching myself out and getting lots of sleep to try to offset the fatigue. They say these side effects are cumulative? Psh! To that I say: 

As always, thanks for your love and support! <3