The Rigors of Taxol

My last post described my deep depression I've been dealing with of late.  At that time my chemotherapy side effects had not started yet.  When they did, I was struck with bone pain with a vengeance.  I was confined to bed.  Michael called the cancer center for me to explain my severe pain and the current medication wasn't helping at all.  The oncologist wrote a prescription that Michael had to pick up and get filled for me.  I hesitate to reveal what the medication is, but he prescribed morphine for the pain.  

I believe medications are useful and am thankful to have them, but to take such a strong medication goes against my nature.  It makes me nervous - but Michael pointed out the oncologist knows what he's doing and they don't want me to suffer while I'm undergoing my treatments.  

The first evening, once I'd taken two dose of the medication I didn't feel well, and I thought I was going to be sick, so I headed to the bathroom and I made it almost to the bathroom  - and fainted.  I saw major stars and they weren't Hollywood stars.  Then, I was so weak I didn't, or couldn't get up by myself.  I stayed there for a while and then Michael practically carried me to bed.  I was drenched in sweat. I have volcanic hotflashes that cause beads of sweat accumulate all over my pretty bald head.  

I'm more than happy to say the bone pain has diminished quite a bit.  I have zings of pain in my pelvic bones often.  I'm unhappy because I now have neuropathy in my hands and feet. I knew it was a possible side effect from the Taxol and I'd hoped I would be one of the lucky ones to evade neuropathy.  It's painful too.  

The rigors of chemo are akin to nothing I've been through.  I think we each envision how hard it would be.  My visions didn't come close to how it really is.  I'm extremely nervous for the final two rounds.  I have another round in five days.  Last time I was nauseated right before we started the IV infusions.  My body has a very clear memory of what's about to come.  The mind/body connection during chemotherapy is incredibly strong.  Nausea to chemo is like a dog bone for Pavlov's dogs. 

There you have it.  Not fun.  But, I look to the bright side.  If I'm this sick then the chemo is most certainly killing the cancerous cells!  I'm a chemo warrior.