From Chemo Patient to Chia Pet to Waiting on a Phone Call From Nike

Today was my first post chemo/Herceptin only cocktail. No more chemo days followed by a week of recovery for me! From here on out it will be, simply, treatment day. I'm really liking the sound of that. From what I understand, I won't have to have anti-nausea meds in the cocktail either, even though they gave me a couple today, just for good measure. And I won't have to take them every 6 hours for three days after, either. Or have to get a white blood cell shot the day after. And I can put the Miralax in a medicine cabinet somewhere, but I really don't feel like going into all the dirty details about that. ;)

This is going to be a huge and happy change in my cancer treatment/life.

My body didn't quite trust me going in today. It has been so used to the trauma of chemo weeks that by the time the oncologist's office calls on Friday to confirm my Monday appointment, it begins stressing out basically with every ring of the phone, just waiting for the reminder it already knows is coming. And even though I knew this week was going to be different than all the rest, it's not like my body would even listen. I think it has lost its trust in me to be quite honest. And you know how hard it is to win someBODY's trust back. I guess I can't really blame it. These things just take time. I hope today was at least a step in the right direction.

Because, wow, I'm still a bit stunned myself that it is 9 p.m. and I am not in a chemo stupor, nor sitting with a bucket nearby, AWAKE, Alert even, wondering why House wasn't on tonight, not drinking hot tea with a shot of Miralax to combat certain chemo issues, not waiting for Dave's alarm to go off at midnight to remind me to take my meds, not going to be rudely awakened by Dave's alarm at 6 a.m. and handed a cup of coffee I KNOW is laced with another shot of Miralax to chase another handfull of anti-nausea meds. I think I can get used to this. And I trust my body will give me another chance.

So yeah...big changes. Another big one, is that it seems as if I have come full circle in my life, with hair days. I officially have a wee bit of peach fuzz on my head. I have to say it's good my mum lives in Indy, because she used to love to tape bows to my head so people would know I was a girl since I had NOTHING BUT PEACH FUZZ on my head until I was 2 or so. I totally wouldn't put it past her to try. (I am 43 now, and bows are just not me, mum. Never were.) Anyway, the chia pet experiment has begun.

Which I suppose, means I will have to think about shaving again. Someday. I know there are a ton of girls out there who have been everything from lime to emerald to kiwi to olive--if there's a shade of green, you name it. And by green I mean jealous that I have not had to shave my legs since August when I found out about the chemo cocktail. I don't like to brag and stuff, was just giving pertinent update-ish details. Just the facts and such.

Also, we can all quit worrying about the triple digits now. That's all I'm saying. And that's all everybody oughta say on the matter. Been there, done that. Looks like I bought the tee shirt.

In other news, now that the tear down time of the chemo has ended (and I pray, God, that it did its jobwell, like a good and faithful servant of Yours!) it's now the time for rebuilding this bionic woman. Or maybe putting Humpty Dumpty together again would be more appropriate. Regardless, I have begun working out toward working on regaining my fitness. I don't think I had much of a chance to recover from the surgeries with the chemo piggybacking, so basically my arms feel as left out as my razor. My left arm has issues from the removal of lymph nodes and my right arm has its tennis issues to deal with. There is also the Port Rapha issue, which is sitting smack dab on my muscle, which is not the most comfortable thing I've ever felt. Restricts my range of motion. Plus I think about it all the time, just sitting there hooked into my heart, which I don't really like to think about. So I think I'll change subjects. Or maybe just stop digressing. That seems less work; although I do love a good rabbit trail, and I am trying to get back in shape. Speaking of, and to continue the original drift of my used to be toned tennis legs, with very sexy sock tans I might add, well...the toner is out and it's going to take a LOT to bring sexy back to these wet noodles I'm walking on. Not to mention my numb and fat feeling feet. And my lower back muscles have atrophied to a pretty sorry state. Ok, sorry for the complaining, but that's just what I'm working with, where I'm starting from. And the snow is melting on the tennis courts behind my house, so there's no time to lose!

Last week's training schedule: I swam laps twice, hit tennis balls once, and took a 2 mile walk, and worked out with some small hand weights once. Not bad for a first week back? I'm a little surprised that Nike still hasn't called me yet to sponsor my comeback.

Cheers and love, and thanks for praying,
Joules