I think that both Holly & I had pretty lofty expectations when she stopped taking her Xeloda. While I’m sure that we knew, in the back of our heads that it wouldn’t be rosy on day one, I think that we were hoping for some miracle bounce back. That really isn’t the case.
I was trying to explain how chemo works to a friend recently. Fortunately, it was at a New Years Eve party so that made things easy. Let’s say that chemotherapy is the equivalent of the beer that he was drinking. One beer, not so bad. Seven or eight beers, you’ll really be feeling it. 10 or 12 and you’re getting a tiny sliver of what is going on. Not only will you feel effects of the 12 beers when you are worshiping the porcelain god, but you’ll also be feeling it for a good chunk of the next day.
Holly has a chemo hangover. She seems like she is getting a negligibly better each day, but it is still hard for her. She still has, and will probably have for a long time, the side effects of the chemo. Tired, nausea, tingles, neruopathy, nasty stuff. Unlike booze, no amount of Gatorade will flush it from her system. It is one of those things, like so many other things with cancer, that fucking sucks (which has now become our favorite phrase, more on that soon).
Add to that a night of doing shots, followed by a late-night dining experience at I-Hop and then starting over the next day with a pitcher of bloody marys; rinse, repeat! In all seriousness, I truly hope that the “poison” gets out of your system quick and you all can get back to a more normal rhythm in your lives.
I’m on week 15 of my bender, and I’m definitely noticing some longer-term effects, although so far I have been pretty lucky not to have been laid flat for more than a couple of days at a time.
The hair is now noticeably coming out — anyone who didn’t know me before wouldn’t notice, but being able to see my scalp through the buzz cut is new in the past few weeks. Ad so much grey!
Plus the accumulated tiredness is trudging on. I crashed out for four hours a couple of evenings ago, and napped again for two this morning, and that’s not like me. My fingers are getting strange skin pigmentation, where they look tanned on the phalanges but not the knuckles. I have freckles on my lips that weren’t there before.
The routine bloody mucus in the nose (and elsewhere I won’t elaborate) isn’t much fun either.
And yet somehow it’s reassuring. If these parts of my body are getting their asses kicked by the chemo, I feel like the cancer cells in my lungs (metastasized from my colon) are getting a serious whupping. So while the hangover’s nasty, at least it’s for a good cause.
I was on chemo for 16 months, with the most recent 12 months dedicated exclusively to Xeloda and Temodar. I’m taking a break and have been off the drugs for 4 months. Let me tell you, it DOES get better! It’s a very gradual evolution, but it will happen. I’m to the point where I feel ready to do it again if necessary. Hang in there; you’ll feel much better soon!