Saturday, May 26, 2007
Pride Goeth Before A Barf
Yesterday was my first day of chemo. First round at noon, second at 1pm, third from 4-10pm. I spent most of the day congratulating myself on being so unique and special that chemotherapy should not affect me like it affects mere mortals. I felt just fine and wondered what those poor people getting sick from it were doing wrong. Until around 11pm. Then I felt cold and started to shiver like crazy, then I felt wildly nauseous, then had a 103 temperature. Cue the barf. Bring on the Demorol.
Apparently the good people who bring us fludarabine and busulfan did not get the memo to make me the non-upchuck formulation. They'll hear from my lawyers, believe me. Other than the random nausea and general feeling of...what did Jimmy Carter call it?..."lust in my heart"? No, the other one. Right: "malaise," I'm otherwise good. I'm watching a lot of television. We get quite a few channels, including about six dedicated to different hospital departments. So on any given night I can watch programs on uterine fibroids, unexpected vaginal bleeding, care of one's catheter, film of a colonoscopy, you name it. Good times, good times.
The worst part of this whole deal (besides being away from Bambina) is the fact that I don't feel like eating. This is serious! The nutritionist came to see me today to ask why I keep ordering chicken and rice soup for breakfast and wouldn't I prefer eggs and bacon or something "more substantial". Ironically, chicken and rice soup at 8am works for me; hearing her even speak the word "bacon" at 10am makes me gag a little. If you don't count my two-year foray into kashrut (kosher) eating phase, or my four-year vegetarian/borderline vegan eating phase, or my three-year subsist-on-zone-bars phase, I'm pretty much an eat-anything kind of girl. Especially bacon. If you are a praying person, I beg you to a)pray that I get some new and smashing bone marrow and b) that I will soon be back in love with the bacon. 'Cause a life without bacon is a sad existence. Worse even than vomiting randomly and watching a fibroidectomy.