Many side effects of this chemotherapy are said to be cumulative, and I got a firsthand look at that with this treatment. It took me nearly two weeks to feel myself again after my last treatment, and I even had the added fun (not) of going to the ER for fluids for dehydration on Thursday.
I'm not sure I actually was dehydrated, but I was so nauseated that I couldn't keep my antinausea meds down. And I only took the Compazine because the medicine I took for the worst headache in the history of headaches made me nauseated. So after hours of throwing up sporadically and with no relief from the WHITHOH, I called Chapel Hill to see what they suggested, and what they suggested was that I get my ass to the ER forthwith for some IV fluids and pain meds. Several hours, one bag of fluid and one big dose of Dilaudid later, I came home.
The best part, besides the relief from the WHITHOH? Twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, since Liam had gone home with his grandparents. When I finally did wake up on Friday, I felt nearly 100 percent, and was able to enjoy the beautiful spring weekend.
After tomorrow I will be roughly halfway through my chemotherapy. I've been lucky; the side effects have been minimal and not hideous. I still struggle with unbelievable fatigue, and even on days when I feel pretty good I always overestimate what I can do, which is very frustrating. But again, minimal in the big scheme of things. It could be so much worse.
Y'all send good thoughts towards Chapel Hill tomorrow, not just for me, but for my poor Tar Heels, too. Their season is over in a stunning display of "couldn't buy a basket" in the last 15 minutes of play. I couldn't believe how badly things fell apart for them. It was painful to watch.
More seriously, Jason Ray, the mascot for the Tar Heels, is on life support after being hit by an SUV before Friday's game. My heart is breaking for his family as they endure this senseless tragedy, and it certainly puts my piddly little problems in perspective.