Chemo Round 23

Simply put, this was the best round of chemo yet. It's hard to believe, but it's true. Under two months out of surgery, not yet medically cleared to exercise (although that's all going to change on Monday), and I get through this round better than pretty much any other round before. We even added Avastin to the mix this time around.

There were no gross feelings save for a semi-nauseous moment on Monday night, which I quickly counteracted with good smells like the grapefruit body lotion I bought from 10,000 Waves in Santa Fe. There were no belly aches since I popped Tums before I started experiencing that acidy gut feeling. And because I took it easy in bed -- alternating between eating, taking care of WunderGlo Foundation business, watching TV, and napping -- I managed to have a very easy Wednesday. 

I credit my ridiculously resilient body for this impressive showing, but I also did something differently this week. I drank a LOT of water. Now, usually, water is the last thing I want to see during a chemo week. For whatever reason, drinking a bunch of water is one of the most stomach-turning ideas when I'm infusing. I know it's good for me, but I usually can't bring myself to chug...or sip. But this time around, I knew I had to bring my A game because this time, I opted to stay at my loft instead of my parents' house, which meant two fewer nurses. I knew that I had to do all I that could to be as well as possible so I could make things easier on Will, and on me. So I spiked a big mug of water with a splash of pink lemonade and I chugged. The more I drank, the more I wanted to drink. And the more water I loaded into my body, the more manageable all the chemo side effects were. The cakey, medicinal feeling in my throat which usually creeps up on Wednesdays was gone. The mild but persistent headache was gone. Even the mild difficulty with BMs in the days following my Monday dose of pre-med Atropine (Atropine is supposed to counteract the diarrhea-inducing Irinotecan chemo drug, but usually does a little too much counteracting if you know what I mean) was gone. 

I ate, pooped, slept, and functioned almost as if I got half the drugs on Monday. That, my friends, is a win. A big win. 

And now, I'm off to the races. The chemo side effects have lifted entirely, I'm back to work at O'Melveny and at the gym on Monday, and there are nothing but wonderful times ahead. Before my diagnosis, I'd wake up and worry about all the things I needed to do in a given week or month. Don't get me wrong -- I looked forward to my work and life responsibilities, but I also perceived these things as if they were barriers to a peaceful existence (as in, "Once I do X, Y, and Z, I can relax"). These days, I have just as much do to -- probably more. But now, I wake up and smile, contemplating my days and weeks ahead. There is simply nothing to worry about -- there are only things to embrace and celebrate.

That's also a big win.