In the wee, small, hours of the morning.

While the whole, wide, world is fast asleep. I lie awake  and think about the chemo, and never, ever think of counting sheep.

(Just cracked myself up with that, btw.)

Here's the haps on the craps:

My ativan was ordered for every 8 hours in error. Oh, no. That's an every 6 hours med. Wanna know how I can tell? I had one at 10 and slept straight to 4:00, at which point, I woke up thinking I needed to pee. (Which, duh, I did. They're pushing fluids through me like crazy banshees.) But before I could even get back to bed, my brain was running in circles. Awesome. So far, I've walked the entire floor twice, trying to wear myself out. (Usually, this would work. Nooooot when I'm all hopped up on anxiety. Oh, no.) Had a total meltdown on my sweet night nurse who thought I was so pleasant when she came on shift last night at 7:00 (duh... I was medicated). She was totally awesome - and even told me stories  to prove that I am not the crazy one. She's got a call in to the doctor to get the order changed, and then we just have to wait on pharmacy. Fingers crossed we've got some early risers out there!

In the meanwhile, I look up and this is what I see:

Other (hilarious) things that the chemo does to me? I've gained three pounds since my pre-bedtime weigh in. How nuts is that?! Three pounds in roughly eight hours. I'm looking at you, Mesna and Ifosfamide!

And... Here we go.

Don't worry that every time I hear/say that phrase, the Joker's voice echoes in my mind.



Which, in this case, I'm considering a good thing.

Because this is what he says right before he attacks Batman. And I feel like I'm attacking the cancer, as I go into my second round.

Also, yes. I'm ignoring the fact that Joker ultimately loses. (And... uh... dies.) It's the super explosive fight scene that I'm focusing on right now. And that is totally good enough for me today.

On call

So, here's the fun thing about today...

I'm sitting around, waiting for the hospital to call and let me know there's a bed available, so I can go check myself in.

How crazy is that? ... I know.

Apparently, the Oncology Ward is super full these days. When I saw Dr. H on Monday, the nurse gave me the "on call" instructions and told me that, as of Monday, there were no beds available... but that, by Wednesday, someone surely would be released and there would be room for me.

So, today I got to wake up early and turn my ringer on so I can sit here and wait for the call to come in.

The good news? I don't have to be fasting.

Halle-freakin-lujah.

Wanna see something gross?

I will show you.

Do you know what that is? That's a BRUISED port area.

I have absolutely no idea what happened when my needle was removed yesterday (I find all things IV/Port/accessing a major blood line vile and keep my eyes closed at all times when needles are going into or out of my body), but something happened.

I had given the nurse firm instruction not to talk to me about what she was doing (I can't even hear the talk about needles, or I lose it... typing this sentence just made me gag... I'm not kidding), so she was quiet. But I did hear her take a sharp breath, and then she pushed on my port - HARD - for at least a minute. And now I have a weird scabby thing below the port and a giant bruise on my chest.

Having this port accessed again at the hospital tomorrow should be a real blast.

Round II

... Is a go.

I had blood work yesterday, and an appointment with Dr. H today. My white cell count has climbed its way out of the toilet and my levels are now high enough that I am approved to be readmitted and re-chemo-ed. (You know I like to make words up, right?)

Dr. H is cutting my dosage down a little this time (taking out a day of Ifosfamide), in the hopes that a lower dose will decrease the chance of the second round effecting my blood in the same way that the first round did. (Also possible benefit: All my OTHER side effects may be lessened as well. Thank heaven, because I'm starting to worry about the acne scaring. ... Bald is one thing. But acne scars at the age of 40 is quite another.)

Round II will commence on Wednesday this week and run four days. (Wahoo! Only four days in the hospital this time.) Three weeks later, on March 17th, I'll have a scan so we can see exactly what the chemo's been doing in there. I'll get the results on March 18th. Once the good doctor can see the CT results, he'll determine if we're continuing with further chemo at my current dosage, changing dosage, changing chemo's, having a hard talk with Dr. G... So many fun possibilities.

How I'm feeling... Tired. Very, very, tired. Most of my side effects have gone away. (Finally! Just in time to start again.) The mouth sores have been gone since Saturday. I haven't taken any nausea meds since Saturday, either. (Double win!) The acne is slowing down, but it's not gone. My bones hurt, something fierce, but that's really the only side effect that's hanging on with a passion, so I won't whine about it.

My hair: Almost all of my hair is gone. It's actually kind of ridiculous, how some areas are hanging on while most of it has abandoned ship. I'm shaving my head with an electric shaver right now, in an effort to look more Kojak than Minion. It's pretty weird to have stubble instead of hair on my head (and only on some areas of my head), but I'm getting used to it. My left eyebrow is about half gone, because I sleep mostly on my left side and my hats and scarves seem to skew to the left, rubbing against that eyebrow. The lashes on the inside of my right eye are gone, thanks to allergies that cause me to rub at that eye more often than my left. I've lost the hair on my legs, but only in patches. The hair on my harms is hanging on for dear life. ... I'm telling you, it's real special.

I'm not real excited about going back into the hospital this week, but I'm resigned to it. (And real - REAL - hopeful that the side effects, both in the hospital and when I get out, won't be as bad this time around.)

I do have funny stories about my appointment with H today, but I'm too tired right now to type them out. (And that, kids, is a major clue to exactly how tired I am these days.) Maybe tomorrow? ... We'll see.

Cheep, cheep, cheep

Nice baby bird fuzz, eh?

This picture was taken this morning. That fuzz was all that was left after about 15 minutes of Judy and me pulling on the loose ends of the hair that was still there when I went to bed last night.

Tonight, I'll take an electric shaver to it and clean it up, but who could resist posting a pic of that awesome fuzz?!

Also, I have a song for us to sing together in commemoration of The Big (Bald) Event. (Nope, I'm not even kidding.) This is a collaboration of one Michelle Beal, Judy and my own self.

Sung to the tune of The Popcorn Song 

I woke up this morning, and what did I see?

Very little hair that was left upon me.

Cancer's brought me such a crap surprise - loss of hair right before my eyes!

I could take a handful and make a nest

For baby birds to have to a cushy rest.

I wish it wasn't so, 

But it seems to me, all my hair is going up a tree!

You're welcome. ... And maybe now that my hair is gone, this little corner of the www will go back to something with a little more substance. (Big. Fat. Maybe.) Only time will tell.

Scenes from a hen house

Just in case anyone's been wondering if Judy and I get bored over here...

We don't.

We've been pulling my hair out, strand by strand. (It's more fun than peeling a sunburn, I tell ya! And that's saying something...)

Before it's all said and done (and.... uh... gone), I thought it'd be fun to throw up a few more almost-baldy pics.

That first pic mostly just looks like I'm sporting a receding hairline (aka: "Look, Mom! I finally have a high enough forehead that could pull off bangs!")... but the one just below?

Oh, geeze! Check out the side of my head. THAT's what's really happening over here.

Makes last night's chicken-pecked look seem like nothing! 

Aaaaaaaaaaand, then there's the back of my head. Looks like I've been in a fire, right?

Methinks that by this time tomorrow, my hair will be but a memory.

It's actually been kind of fun to see (and help) it fall out this week. Cutting the length off took all the stress out of it for me. Had I been watching 18 inches of hair fall to the ground, it would have been horrifying. But pulling an inch at a time out of the top of my head has been oddly therapeautic.

You can take the girl out of the farm town, but...

It's another matter, entirely, to take the farm town out of the girl.

As I mentioned last night, my hair has started to fall out. In patches. Obviously.

And when I stepped out of the shower last night and saw these pink patches all over my head, my very first thought was, "I look like I've been in a chicken fight... AND I LOST!"

What can I say? Someone's seen too many hen house scrabbles in her day...

Judy's been calling it "male-pattern baldness", because, so far, most of the hair I've lost has been on the top of my head. I'm insisting it's "chemo-pattern baldness", because I'm also patchy above my left ear. Also, chemo made it happen. Oh, and I'M A GIRL who just happens to be going bald... in sections.

Day 14

It's Day 14 (since the start of my first round).

Let this serve as the record that my hair started to officially fall out on Day 14.

A whole new level of tired

Hi again. Remember me? The girl who posted something all week last week (even if it was super lame), just to make sure my peeps who are too far away to know what's going on would know what's going on?

Yeah, I got tired.

So tired, in fact, that the post I started on Saturday didn't get finished and thrown up until yesterday morning. I'd posted the pics and was just finishing up writing that Saturday post when I had a double wave of hot and tired hit me at the same time. Judy took my temp and it was 100.2. I immediately removed myself from the blogesphere and spent the rest of Saturday night praying that my temperature would go down, so I could just go to sleep.

Miracles happen. Prayers are answered. My temp never did hit 100.4 (this is the magical number that sends me straight to the ER), and I was able to sleep Saturday night. For 12 solid hours.

And then I stayed in bed all day Sunday, pretty much unable to move.

And then I went to bed Sunday night, slept another 10 hours, and rolled myself out of bed just in time to go to MD and have them take some blood Monday morning.

Oh, and also so I could ask about all these awesome side effects that have been piling on since Thursday (acne, mouth sores that have now started to go down my throat, itchy/irritated skin... the list goes on and on).

And the blood work reveals:

*Low White Blood Cells (It seems that the bladder infection on Friday has been my saving grace, in that I was put on antibiotics that've been keeping me safe while my own immune system has been rapidly making its way down the drain)

*Low Platelets (I told the PA, "No wonder I keep getting bloody noses; I can't clot!" Her response "Yeah, I was gonna say to be careful around stairs. ... But also maybe don't blow your nose too often."

*Low Phosphorus (I did a little Google research and it appears that this may have something to do with my lone kidney... as in, "healthy kidneys work to keep a balance of calcium and phosphorus in the blood" ... but I'm not entirely sure what that's about)

Aaaaaaand, voila! We have a reason for why I am so tired!

As per the lovely PA, yesterday I was "this close" to needing a transfusion to build my levels back up. Rather than re-access my port and literally pour new blood back into my body, I've been put on two new prescriptions - one to build white blood cells and one to build my supply of phosphorus - and I'll go back in for blood work Thursday morning. Depending on what they see, they may call me back Thursday afternoon or Friday morning to do an infusion/transfusion.

Gosh. Will the good times ever stop rolling?!

But hey... at least now we know why I'm so tired. It's my blood. Or, rather, the lack thereof. It can't do everything it needs to do right now, so... I nap a lot. I'm not sure if that's actually helping my blood do what it needs to do, but I'm not real lively even when I am awake these days, so it seems like a good use of time.