Infusions 12 & 13

My nails are growing out. This is good. During the summer, the Red Devil lifted them off their beds, so that I risked losing them. I still don't have good use of my nails. I can't yet peel an orange or pry open box lids because they are still detached from half of the bed. When I try to be adventurous, they feel like they're going to snap in two. But they continue to grow in nice and pink, and I will have full use of them very soon. I predict my nails will be the first affected body part to return to normal post chemo.

People say I look good. They say my skin color is healthy, that I don't look sick.

"Shhhh... Taxol. It's my little secret," I reply.

The drug gives me a slight tan. And if you review the blog photos and compare my skin tone against those of my friends, you will see I look very much like Donald "grab-em-by-the-pussy" Trump. I'm orange.

Infusion 12 was just a puny Taxol treatment. My neutrophils were down to 900 (the carboplatin is doing it's job of bombing my body), but it was high enough for the Taxol. But unlucky infusion 13...

My neutrophils had plummeted down to 500, so I was rejected. Oh carboplatin, whyyyyy??? Why are you such an asshole?!

I was given the same spiel to avoid crowds, stay healthy and wash hands and then handed more yellow masks to wear in public and sent home. Once home, I immediately called my breast surgeon's office. Surgery is typically scheduled four weeks after the final chemo infusion and with the rejection of unlucky 13, that meant one thing: my chemo would be extended not by one week but most likely two (I figured since it took two weeks to get my neutrophils up to baseline the first time I was stamped NEUTROPENIC, I would see the same trend again).

Originally, my final treatment was supposed to be on October 19th. Then it moved to November 2nd. Now we were looking at November 16th. I am trapped in a never-ending evil cycle. Pause, rewind, repeat. 

FUUUUCK!!!