Kick Rocks, Chemo

Last Tuesday marked my 12th chemo session, and this is big big news because 12 sessions means I am donezo!

I kind of just lied. Wishful thinking!!

Like you've read before, I was on a trial chemo drug and a generic chemo drug, doctor's orders, for 12 sessions, and THAT round of therapy is fiiiiinally over. Last Tuesday when I was in the hospital, I had the feeling for the first time of how over cancer I am. I even said it to my sister, remember, Jess? And I never thought I would actually say that out loud. And in the cafeteria of all places. But I am way over it if you couldn't already tell. Although I do need to say, I'm not over the time I get to spend with my sister and dad. I think that's what's been keeping me from saying screw everything, because they really are the best. 
So Tuesday's chemo session was a little difficult. I had to muster up every single tiny particle of energy I had to get out of bed. I was not feeling good. When we got to the hospital, the sickness hit me like one of those trucks I've talked about before and I was not a happy camper. My sister and dad, in true form, made me laugh like hell through the day though, that is, until I was given an Ambien for my nausea and then the benadryl IV. This had to have been one of the deepest sleeps I have ever had in my whole life, and afterwards had me questioning whether Ambien mixed with Benadryl mixed with all that other stuff is safe.....
Anyway, I was awoken by my nurse, dad and sister, all very excited that I had hit the 12th session of chemo. 12 weeks, I cannot believe it. 
On the way out, I grabbed a barf bag as a joke, and then was really glad I had it once I took a few more steps. I got in to the back of my dad's car and felt no other comfortable way than to lay out like a dead rag doll with the AC blowing on my face. I am sure I looked very rude and ungracious, but my god did I feel rotten. I'm so glad there is no photographic evidence of that car ride home. Thank you sissy and dad for all you do and put up with. 

Over the next 8 weeks I will be receiving the more "hardcore" chemo called AC, in which, as my doctor said in not the most delicate of ways, I will lose all my hair, will have neuropothy like it's no body's business, the energy levels of a super tired 90 year old, and have to take 2 shots of the white blood cell protein every couple of days. The anti-nausea medication that I just picked up at Walgreens was no joke either - an excellent indicator as to how I will feel as well. 30 boxes of anti-nausea medication. Even the pharmacist looked a bit surprised with the amount I was carrying out. Better to be safe than sorry right?! 

Not my best photo, but the struggle is real. 

Not my best photo, but the struggle is real.