Minor Setback

May 13, 2009

Things didn’t go quite as planned at my appointment this Tuesday. I had my port accessed and blood drawn, but when I saw my doctor right before the infusion, he decided to cancel the treatment. My blood counts hadn’t dropped further from the week before (and my white cell count was actually up a point) but my energy level was so low that he said if I went through this treatment without a break, I’d end up a “puddle on the floor.” That didn’t really appeal to me, but neither did canceling the treatment and tacking another week onto the end of my schedule. But so it goes. I do think it is for the best: it’s only Wednesday and already I am feeling like I am getting some energy back. My taste buds seem to be rebounding as well – something had been “off” the past few weeks, and everything just tasted odd. Most people’s weekly treatments include a week off every few treatments, so this isn’t unusual. I guess my doctor was just going to see how much I could take.

I have had to cancel a few appointments and lunch dates in the past week because I have been so tired. I also took on quite a load of work (bad timing!), thinking that this round of treatments would be so much easier. The Abraxane is easier in a way: it doesn’t require the use of steroids to offset nausea, so I don’t feel drugged up and weird. But the steroids with the last round did give me a certain amount of energy for a few days following the treatment. So it is a trade-off. For awhile I was certain that feeling tired would not be such a big deal, but I had forgotten that fatigue takes its toll in many ways: constant headaches, moodiness, forgetfulness, etc. By mid-week last week, I was really getting weary just walking up the hill to Oliver’s bus stop. Last Thursday morning I took a spinning class at the gym and overdid it – I felt horrible the rest of the day and never really snapped out of it. In the past, I have used intense exercise to deal with stress or uneasiness. That outlet it not available to me anymore, and I have yet to find something to replace it. This continues to be a journey.

Call it “chemo brain” or just the effects of being tired, but this situation does produce some light comedy. See below:

I tossed some recyclables into the linen closet instead of the recycle bin.
I put the jam on the pantry shelf instead of in the refrigerator.
I asked my friend Jennifer repeatedly if she really did like sushi, forgetting that our friendship is practically defined by our regular trips to Sushi Land.
I have heated up tea in the microwave a number of times, but have forgotten it is in there until I find the cup sometime around dinnertime.
I got “snack week” at Oliver’s school wrong by an entire week, actually shopping, preparing and sending off snacks for his class one week before I was scheduled.
I called Oliver’s after-school program “Captain Kangaroo” instead of “Captain Caveman,” prompting all sorts of questions and dating myself considerably.