Four Days After 1st Chemo

It is Saturday night.  A storm is blowing through the area.  I love a good storm.  Wind whipping through the trees and lightning and thunder making their presence known.  Of late, our Jack Russell Terrier has taken to barking at thunder.  Most dogs cower at the sound, and Gidget with her little-dog Napoleon complex, barks like crazy as if she can hush the great noise from the sky.  It is hilarious.  

While thinking of storms, I wonder if there is something akin to a storm taking place in my body?  I am extremely fatigued and nauseated.  Those are the signs and symptoms that chemotherapy is doing its job.  I'm very grateful for Zofran and Compazine to keep nausea in check.  I have been close to vomiting, but fortunately it hasn't happened yet.  My appetite is a little to be desired, but I am making sure to eat small meals to keep my strength up.

Last night I went to my 25 year class reunion.  It was an 80's reunion for Pocatello and Highland High School. I did not wear a hat to cover my baldness.  First, it was simply too hot to wear a hat; and second, I am having more frequent hot flashes - so I went sans hat.  Everyone was incredibly supportive and said I rocked the bald look.  I caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection as we walked in and it still takes my breath away to see my hair is gone.  It was uplifting to go and see friends that I had gone to school with since I was eight years old.  Very good for my spirits.  Not so good for my fatigue factor.  I've slept most of the day.  

 I should also mention that I saw the surgeon yesterday.  My chest where the port was put in is still extremely sore.  I called the nurse and she had me come in.  Then, the surgeon took a look at it and said it looks like it is healing well, despite the bruising and two inch incision, but it HURTS.  I told her it hurts to walk, to talk, and to move.  She asked about pain meds I'm taking.  I told her I've been taking Ibuprofen 800.  She thought I had something stronger.  And scolded me for not having called sooner.  I was so groggy when I got out of surgery I misunderstood and thought all I needed was Ibuprofen.  Now I have something much stronger than Ibuprofen.  Thank goodness. 

I'm still listening to visualization tapes and guided imagery.  I visualize the chemotherapy drugs killing off each little cancer cell.  One tape I listen to says they will burn, blister, and shrivel after being subjected to chemotherapy.  That's good!  Zap, burn, and die, to all the little evil cells.  

Back to sleep.