Monday, October 24, 2016

Infusion 11

Infusion 11 was a big one (a carboplatin/taxol combo) and marked the beginning of my seventh cycle. I also received a very thoughtful gift of a heart-shaped rock found in Lake Como, Italy that has traveled to my nightstand. My neutrophils remained the same at 1,100 from the previous week, but that carboplatin is a complete asshole and likes to bodyslam me into the pavement.

Carbo is the one responsible for my nosebleeds, mouth sores and anal fissures. I held the bloody nose and mouth sores at bay with daily neti pot rinses and dabs of GelClair on sensitive areas of my tongue. Another purple blister swelled to the surface on the inside of my mouth, but since there was no pain, I could care less. Unfortunately, my butthole wasn't so lucky. Anal fissures number 4 and 5 have come and gone. Damn you, carbo!

I haven't spoken much about how it feels to be entirely hairless. My head senses everything: spiderwebs, flying insects, the first raindrops before they hit the ground. I had no idea how much heat and sweat would come off of it. When I wake in the morning, sometimes my pillow is damp. Most of the time, my scalp feels soft and clammy, almost amphibian-like. But it's far more than that.

When I blink, my lids stick together for a microsecond before releasing. My eyes are weepy and constantly get debris in them. My vision becomes easily blurry. Even with glasses, it is difficult to read for long periods of time (this might be due to the chemo rather than the lack of eyelashes).

I have to guess where to pencil in my brows and I don't always get it right. If I bend my head downward, my nose drips. On paper, on the floor, on my food. I have to be diligent about blowing it.

And then, of course, there's the lack of hair down below. And when you consider the female folds, it gets really interesting. Pee goes everywhere. When I sit on the toilet, I have no idea if it will release in the front or the side or the back. It's like a wild hose let loose on the lawn. And when I wipe, I frequently get it on my hand.

Everything is bald. Everything is sticky.

I'm a newt.








2 comments:

  1. BIG HUGS, Denise. Sending positive vibes, intentions and prayers your way as always. Love the heart-shaped rock from Italy!

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  2. Not sure why that post isn't showing as me...but it's me! One of the husbands (Brian) :) XO

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