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).