Day One: Xeloda + Tukysa

I was anxious.  My nerves were working at high speeds, making my gut hurt and my brain spin.  I wanted to scream and cry and be mad at the world and punch a pillow and run away or just not go through with it. Could I please go back to sleep, for all the hours it would take to make this year, and all the crap that has come along with it, simply go away? 

Already, the frustrations over acquiring my two oral chemotherapy prescriptions was enough to make me want to quit.  What, you ask?  Couldn't I just wait for a Walgreen's text to tell me this new drug cocktail was ready?  Definitely not.

For one pill, I have to use a mail-out pharmacy, which set up a date and time for drop-off.  I cleared my schedule to be at home for that whole day, which turned out to be a waste.  Only a missed package sticker alerted me they had and gone.  I most likely missed the FedEx delivery while I was in the bathroom, taking a 2020.  Calling the number from the missed package sticker led me only to robots and never to a representative or real answers.  I downloaded the app and tried to communicate with the online assistant, but that binary code did not compute my complicated crisis.   When I sent a message, the app froze.  I gave up on the hassle of it all after an hour, and, I'm sad to say, lost hope. 

Remarkably, five hours later, the truck came back and handed my medication over.  That message, and all other attempts, must have gotten through to someone.

The second drug required me to get a ride to the downtown pharmacy. [Those cannot be delivered because they require refrigeration.]   Before I could leave, a pharmacist enlightened me on ALL of the possible side-effects.  Not much to worry about, really.  

Just the list of regulars:

• diarrhea
• rash, redness, pain, swelling, or blisters on the palms of your hands or soles of your feet
• nausea
• tiredness
• increased liver function blood tests
• vomiting
• mouth sores (stomatitis)
• decreased appetite
• stomach-area (abdomen) pain
• headache
• a low number of red blood cells (anemia)
• rash

The other pill adds, relatively, more of the same:

• severe nausea or vomiting (may be severe),
• stomach pain or upset,
• loss of appetite,
• constipation,
• tiredness,
• weakness,
• back/joint/muscle pain,
• headache,
• dizziness,
• trouble sleeping,
• skin darkening,
• skin rash,
• dry/itchy skin, or
• numbness or tingling in your hands or feet
• hair loss
• nail weakness

What, REALLY, is there to be afraid of???????

So, on the big day, I put on my big girl panties, swallowed my big pile of pills, put on a semi-fancy dress, and prayed that I would be strong enough to survive again, after only a short pause in the struggle.  All of this hopeful thinking didn't stop ALL of the frustrated tears or anxious fears.  My youngest son did notice I was a little scared about my treatment, and insisted I take one of his squishies for support.  

 I was grateful to only have a short infusion [if it hadn't been delayed by a late arrival and a sluggish pharmacy.]  

I was comforted by many compliments on my growing hair, for actually putting on makeup, wearing such a fancy-for-chemo outfit, and the comparison of Princess Aurora to me. [Aurora just happened to be my nurse of the day, as well.]  The infusion visit was working for good.  

Despite the stress of the morning, I felt as if God was throwing a little humor my way.  I noticed that my consent form mistakingly showed my reason for this new drug combo as: "BEAST CANCER." BEAST CANCER???!?  Aurora was mortified!  I thought it was HILARIOUS!! After that priceless gem, there was much laughter, and some of my angst melted away.  

 

I am happy to say that I survived the day.  It was not what I would call joyous. However, I was able to take a long nap..not long enough to erase the crap of the year, but long enough to dream away more anxiety.   I thought back on seeing the viles of my blood [for labwork] against the color of my dress.  I've known for a long time that Aggies Bleed Maroon, but my own blood actually seemed closer to maroon than red today.  Perhaps my vision was playing tricks on me.  OR, perhaps it was just another sign that I need to remember to fight and to BTHOC. I was still nervous and questioning which fun side-effects were headed my way,  but I know of miracles and tender mercies of being saved before, and have hope that those will happen again.