Here is the truth. I feel pretty crappy. I constantly have a headache and my arms and legs hurt and I feel blah and tired and moody and well, you get the picture. My bathroom habits have not been normal since this junk began. (Too much info...I know.) I toss and turn at night. Always too hot. Sick of trying to sleep on my back. Sick of wearing hats and scarves and wigs. Sick of this cancer game, in general. The steroids they give me have me growing facial hair (ironic, I know) and eating entire tubs of ice cream. I am counting the days to normal.
And guess what? Thursday is the day. It is my last day of chemotherapy. Please, dear Lord, let it be my last day of chemo ever. Last few times I met my oncologist, I have reminded her of this impending milestone. She doesn't seem as excited. I am expecting balloons and confetti to drop from the ceiling on Thursday. I am expecting people to sing or at least a certificate of completion. I have a feeling none of these things will happen. Don't care. Celebration on Thursday even if it is just a double scoop from Dairy Queen afterwards.
My oncologist REALLY disappointed me the last two visits. When I asked her if I could take a little break between my last chemo and the start of the oral anti-estrogen medication I'll have to take for five years, she said it would depend on my radiation plan. Crazy doctor say what? She never, ever mentioned radiation to me before that moment. I would have preferred she just slap me across the face. I can't even figure out what the hell they will radiate. Under my arm, she says, where the positive lymph node was. Uh, Dr. V, that is where my boob expanders are. You know, the fake boobs that feel like air mattress plastic filled with water. Also, my heart is there. Ahem, do you people know what you are doing? And when, please tell me, am I going to get my *real* fake boobs? The ones that will transform me into the Baywatch beauty that I deserve to be. Dr. V did not have answers for me. No, I have to meet another doctor, a radiation specialist who went to Harvard. I meet her tomorrow morning at 7:30am. Obviously, going by the appointment time, this new doc and I are not compatible. I'll let you know the final verdict on radiation.
Meanwhile, my bone scan showed no cancer in my bones. My latest CT scan showed no cancer in the brain. I have felt pretty lousy for the last six months so I am pretty sure the chemo took care of any remaining cancer in my lymphatic system. Yay! Radiation or not, I am many steps closer to fine. Thursday, I will have completed sixteen god-awful treatments. Here is me...patting my own back. I am, indeed, strong.
