Chemo Round 21

Now that it's officially over (I consider the moment I feel normal, without a hint of chemo side effects, as the official conclusion to a round), it's time to catch you up on chemo round 21.

This was the soonest after surgery that I've ever received chemo -- just 3 and a half weeks after being sliced open from stern to stem. For the last 3 and a half weeks, I've been tending to my incision wound, walking around gingerly, and being at peace with the fact that I'm totally forbidden from hitting the gym. I've lost a little over 10 pounds since surgery, and I can tell that my muscles are not what they used to be. It's a simple fact that I'm not at my strongest at the moment, but there is no time to waste in my cancer-killing adventures. It was time for chemo whether my body liked it or not.

Turns out, my body was pretty ready for it.

My blood work was great (indicating good organ function everywhere), my CEA tumor marker had held firm at pre-surgery levels (quite a feat considering that I didn't have chemo for 6 weeks), and my PET/CT scan results were solid. After my usual pow-wow with Dr. Lenz, I was in my VIP bed in the day hospital chillin' out and killin' cancer. I was done with my IV, attached to my "bag o' chemo," and out of Norris by 1:30pm. 

I always get a little bit of steroids as a pre-med, and I felt it this time around. Definitely left Norris energized and humming, and well enough to grab lunch with my mom and Will in Silver Lake. I continued to feel good until around 10ish, when the "acid belly/gross headache" feeling settled in, as usual. It wasn't too bad this time and the feeling was gone by the morning. Tuesday, as all chemo Tuesdays, wasn't too tough either. My appetite was decent and I generally felt pretty well.

Wednesday morning was a little tougher, though.

Wednesday mornings are when I get detached from my "bag o' chemo" and I don't think I've really described the feeling when I'm first detached. I almost have a sixth sense as to when my pump of 5FU has run out -- I start tossing and turning in bed, my throat feels coated in a few layers of grossness, and I get pretty anxious about getting the needle out of my chest. The minute the needle is detached, I feel a mixture of relief and queasiness. Relief is easy enough to imagine, but allow me to explain the queasiness. It's as if I just fell face-first into a pile of dog poop. It's not the kind of queasiness that comes from a stomach ache or a headache. My body feels fine - no cramping, no twisting, no pain at all. It's just the thought of the "bag o' chemo" that makes me retch a little bit. Usually, I'm able to chug some water, picture a beautiful landscape, and get over that wave of grossness fairly quickly.

This time, I couldn't. It was 6am, and I couldn't stop myself from feeling utterly grossed out. I start to heave a little bit -- dry heaves, of course. After about 8 of them and not a drop of vomit, I knew that the moment had passed and that I was alright. And I was. I crashed into bed and slept like a baby.  

The rest of Wednesday was challenging, as Wednesdays always are. My head felt heavy and my energy levels weren't good. I chilled out in bed all day, only taking breaks to eat small bites of fruit and continue my impressive performances in the bathroom. Even amidst the chemo and the antibiotics I'm on (for the incision wound), meds that are both supposed to cause diarrhea, my GI system has held up like a rock star. Even when I'm feeling like poop, my poops are perfect. As the day progressed, I started to feel a little better, as if a fog was slowly lifting. Today, the fog is gone.

I had to battle this week, but I got through chemo when I was at my weakest, which is a huge moral victory. Chemo is never going to be harder than this round and, when you consider what others have to go through with their own treatments, it wasn't actually that hard. 

So what helped me finally shake those chemo side effects for good?  

Well, at 6pm last night, my beloved Duke basketball team played our arch-rivals, UNC. We were coming off a heartbreaking loss against Miami and were facing a very talented Carolina team (as much as it pains me to admit). According to all the experts, we weren't supposed to win the game, but I believed in our guys.  Whether I'd watch the game wasn't really a question despite the fact that getting worked up over a loss could have made me feel worse. I wouldn't have missed that game, win or lose, for the world. So there I was, in the robe I wore all day and looking unimpressivly limp, reclined in my parents' back room and ready to watch my Blue Devils fight...just like me. 

There were highs and lows during the game, and times where I wanted to just shut my eyes and concede defeat. UNC had us on the ropes with a 10 point lead for most of the second half. But, of course, I didn't shut my eyes or concede defeat. I stuck with the team and kept on believing that we could emerge victorious.  And we did. At the buzzer. A come from behind victory of epic proportions. Our freshman phenom, Austin Rivers, scored 29 points including the game winning 3-pointer that sealed the deal and had me screaming, jumping, and crying tears of joy. 

In sports and in life -- and especially when you're fighting cancer -- you simply can't give up on yourself and the people that you trust and love. You always believe in your doctors, your support system, and yourself. No matter how long the odds look, you've got to stick around, show up, and keep fighting. My Blue Devils could have given up last night, but they never did. Because of that, their victory was all the more glorious and especially inspiring to me.

When interviewed after the game, Austin said something that doesn't just apply to the team's big win, but to my first foray back into chemo for this 21st round: 

"It's amazing what can happen when you have courage."