Chemo Treatment 1--some reflections

Many people have been kind enough to ask how my first chemotherapy treatment was.

I will tell you: It was not my favorite thing ever, but it was not as bad as being sick in Manaus.

Before my first treatment, I had a "chemo teaching" session with my nurse, Robin. She explained the most common effects of the two chemo drugs I would be taking. The drugs are Taxol and Carboplatin. Taxol is the more severe of the two, and the one that causes hair loss. Both have similar effects, though: loss of appetite, nausea and vomiting, joint and muscle pain, fatigue, hair loss, kidney trouble, other tummy troubles, bad taste in mouth, change in taste, mouth sores and sensitivity.

Now, I'm not going to detail how it affected me, other than to say that I was surprised that so many of the symptoms showed up so quickly. Somehow I developed the delusion that the effects wouldn't set in until treatment 3 or so. I will say that the muscle and joint pain was like having Dengue fever (thanks, Manaus), growing pains, and arthritis (thanks, Fairgrounds Jr. High) all at once.

It's been ten days since the first treatment, and I'm feeling much better now. Still queasy and tired, but much better.

The above picture is my and my Mom on June 6, 2009, two days before my first treatment. Don't you think my hair is the most adorable thing you've ever seen? I just love it. I'm crossing my fingers for less than total hair loss during chemo.

The bandages you see on my chest are from my port--a roughly truffle-sized devise that now resides under my skin. The purpose of the port is to allow injection of drugs and dyes (for CT scans) without subjecting me to IVs. Having a port is creepy, but since I'm a hard stick, it's well worth it.

Finally, the first chemo session itself was scary. I had to take a couple of deep breaths before walking into the big chemo room full of recliners and IV stands. But Mom was there with me, the port worked like a dream, the drugs were clear instead of some toxic color, and the National Geographic magazine had an interesting article on botos, the dolphins of the Amazon. I didn't know that the pink color is only found in males, and is thought to be scar tissue from their violent encounters with each other.

Scary as it was, it improved--slightly--as the hours ticked on and I watched a number of other people come it, sit down, do their treatments, and go on their way. They (except one lady) looked like normal people just running a normal errand. It was encouraging.

One last thing: I learned that I most definitely need the help my mom and Jeremy's mom are providing full time, and the support that so many people are giving from near and far. Thank you, friends.