chemo 15

will they or won't they make me do it

When I took the second red bag a few weeks ago, it was with the hope that it would be mildly (or wildly) uncomfortable but that I would push through and stay healthy. That kind of happened ish. But I also ended up in the hospital. My stomach hurt.

How do you know when you’ve crossed the line from -chemo sucks but I suffer to get better but yo this feels terrible- to -I feel terrible and this kind of terrible is beyond anything I should suffer through I need professionals-? I still don’t really know. But what I know is when I went in for a check up and hydration the Monday after the chemo (which had gone in on a Wednesday), my nurses and doctor were like, ummm, this is not normal why didn’t you go to the hospital over the weekend? I was curled over and tender to the touch. Light bothered my eyes and every sound was too loud. I was hot and cold and just uncomfortable in my body. I was crying in public. But guess what I didn’t have? If you guessed a fever give yourself a pat on the back. I was in a lot of pain but I didn’t have a fever and if you know how I feel about the ER, you know that short of a fever or something equally compelling, I am not willingly going to any ER to be subjected to other peoples diseases.

So, I said to my doctor many things that we don’t need to repeat here but the gist was, I fully respect your wish for me to be in a hospital right now, however, all due respect, I politely decline the er, would you be so kind as to please find a way to direct admit me? And since I was so so nice, he did, and there I found myself again, in hospital, getting scanned.

This stay was a little less fun than before. I felt pretty shitty, no one could figure out why I was in so much pain, and to top it off I had a team of boy nurses. Now, I would think that I would be one of the last people to care about that, but turns out, I don’t love talking about poop things with boy nurses and they don’t laugh at my jokes. I recognize we’re all human, we all poop, and those boy nurses are highly qualified professionals, but when it comes down to it, I just would rather not. I strongly believe in gender equality and I’m one of those people who doesn’t want a boy nurse. Shameful.

Anyway, the hospital was fine. I took some drugs that helped the pain. I eventually saw my favorite nurses, the ones who do laugh at my jokes and who’s demeanors put me at ease, and that was nice. Once I was able to stand up straight and eat food, it was a quick release.

After that experience, my oncologist called to make an appointment. Both on the day of chemo and the day I was admitted to the hospital, he had mentioned that my body just might not be able to take this kind of chemo and that based on what we know about my tumors, we might be able to quit this chemo early. Through my fear, pain and ultra contained excitement, I made it clear to him that I am DTF, down to fight, and that I don’t give up and that I am prepared to suffer through whatever he tells me I have to in order to fuck up this stupid cancer. I made it very clear that as far as I’m concerned, we’re not stopping chemo unless medically called for, certainly not because of some “pain” and or “hospitalizations.” In general, I’m happy to give up on a lot of things, but unless it’s the best choice, I won’t be giving up on this. However, if it IS the best choice to give up on chemo, I’m um, pretty ok with that too.

Soooo, today was that follow up appointment. The one to talk about next steps.

Chemo 15. Delayed. Instead of it being next week, it’ll be the week after or… never. My job is to get scans done ASAP, and then based on what the scans show, make a plan with the team.

Whatever happens, cancer is stupid. I’m DTF, strong, eating again, spirits are high and I don’t have to chemo next week.