GRATITUDES:
1. Caring nursing staff and doctors
2. No more nausea!
3. My body’s ability to cope with all this abuse
4. Rory

I’m currently receiving the last of my high dosage chemo and I’ve been chewing on ice, ice cream and popsicles since around 10am. This new drug, Clofarabine, can cause horrific mouth and esophagus ulcers, and since I’ve already experienced that level of misery, I have NO desire to do so again. Lordy. I’ve stocked up on remedies in case I get any sores but there isn’t much that can prevent them, other than ruining my tooth enamel. So, the next treatment will be the TBI tomorrow, and I’ll get to have my very first (and hopefully last) ride in an ambulance to the radiology clinic. Methodist Hospital doesn’t have the equipment onsite necessary for treating patients with radiation, so I get a little field trip. I sincerely hope that the blast of radiation doesn’t make me sick – I’m getting really tired of feeling pukey and foggy-brained.

Last night I noticed some itchiness on my scalp and right along the hairline on my neck. I didn’t think much of it until I looked in the mirror to see what looked like another me with a horrid sunburn! It’s just as well that I’m done with the Clofarabine because one of the nurses (or maybe it was the pharmacist) said that drug could cause rashes and swelling in about 40% of the patients using the drug.

Whoa… I just awoke from a nap that I thought would only be a couple minutes and instead turned into a 90 minute snooze-fest! I dragged myself into the shower – there was no way I could have taken it in the morning, too much was going on – and then I did something I’ve never done before. I actually rang the nurses’ station to ask one of the PCAs to make my bed for me. I felt like such a slacker but it was a relief nonetheless. Now I’m parked in my recliner and slowly pecking out this post. It’s weird – I seem to be having some trouble with typing. It’s probably due to all the poison swimming around in what’s left of my bloodstream. The drugs are strong and they don’t discriminate between cancerous and non-cancerous cells. They’ll go after healthy tissue and seem to have a fascination with the nervous system. I may be experiencing a different sort of neuropathy now in my hands – they’re warm, tingly and slightly puffed, and they don’t seem to want to listen to what my brain is trying to tell them. (That last point sounds very much like raising a teenager. Oy.)