Rnd 5: Week 1

   I had been warned that round five would be one of the hardest.  I was hoping "they" were wrong.  They weren't.  Whoever they were. The level of fatigue I'm feeling is tenfold from the past.  My legs feel like I've run a marathon, though just the jello and fatigue aspect.  Truly, I dreaded the entire process leading into the actual treatment--"I'm already cancer free, so I don't want to" was my main argument.  It apparently wasn't a good enough reason, so I found myself one more time in the chemo day room.  Truly, the nurses that work in there are amazing.  Rebekah even brought in  Oreos to share with them, which is a small reward for all that they do, though I've become fairly low-need since the initial reaction.  The most I challenged anything was that it had been agreed the appointment before to reduce the vincristine due to my continued neuropathy in my fingers, but before all infusions, I (or Rebekah) have to read my name and my birthday, and I caught that the vincristine was still 2mg instead of the reduced 1mg.  After having to track down the PA who ordered the change then change my orders, they had to remix the vincristine before giving it to me.  Otherwise, pretty uneventful.

Courtesy of Catherine Diehl-Robbins

   The beginning week of recovery post chemo five was not so uneventful.  Right from the start, those stupid hiccups threatened to come back!  I was already armed with the baclofen (a muscle relaxant), which I took at the first sign of hiccups.  And then in the middle of Friday night, before I could take the baclofen again, they came on again while I was trying to sleep.  Panicked, I took one of the other drugs I had to help with hiccups.  Big, stupid mistake!   Toward morning, I got up to use the restroom.  At some point, I moved to wash my hands or stabilize myself at the sink, though I don't remember doing so.  The next thing I remember, I hit my ribcage on the edge of the counter and hit the floor with Rebekah calling to me if I'd fallen, to which I told her yes.  She ran in and then sat with me until I was with it enough to be helped to crawl back into bed. All I could think was at least I didn't hit the port...
   And then the freight train called RCHOP took me out entirely!  The prednisone was harder to get through, the being motivated to get up was harder to get through, and the desire to just do anything has been hard to.  But amongst all of this, friends, family, and students continued to cheer me on, many even posting pictures of themselves in the lime green of the lymphoma ribbon the week of my chemo...it meant so much to me and has truly humbled me to be the focus of so many positive thoughts, prayers, love, and encouragement.
    So despite how this week has clunked along, today's nadir visit with my doctor went very well.  My numbers are still holding, and he said the word "cure" many times throughout.  I know that nothing is guaranteed, but he is very positive that we got it fast and hit it hard and early with a very strong treatment, so it will be gone for good.  Now that Mt. Lymphoma is down, it's all a matter how to best clean it up completely.  When I started, there was talk of three rounds followed by evaluation for radiation.  Ultimately, I was "no evidence of disease" (apparently cancer free) with complete response to the treatment by the midterm CT scan after round three.  With treatments and five down, my oncologist has determined that the completion of the originally proposed six will be the best course in order to best make sure it never comes back.  So, I have to be resigned for one more time in the chemo room at the end of the month on March 28.  After that, he'll help evaluate me and work with me to plan on how to best reenter the classroom I've so missed.  I'll have pay close attention to him and my body as I make my plan to reclaim the life that I had to temporary leave but was well cared for by so many others to make sure it's still ready for me.  April 15 is my goal date, but I know there is necessarily some fluidity to that so I can do so healthy and smart.  I do know the first week back will necessarily be half days.
   But even then, we began to talk about the need to schedule the last pieces of treatment, which will hopefully get my butt moving and motivated and make round six more endurable to have it be it!  At my pre-chemo appointment on March 27, we'll schedule my PET/CT scan, final echocardiogram, and, yay, my port removal!  It's been a long journey with one final lap left, but I have been so supported by everyone throughout this.  On the days I didn't think I could, you sent me your love and energy and prayers and helped lift me up.  Though it's hard to find the positive in this idea of "fighting cancer," one thing is absolutely true: you really live like you're dying.  For me, it wasn't about climbing mountains, but it was about getting to be humbled by how many people care and have taken care of me and my family throughout this!  Illness can inherently leave you feeling very lonely, but I can honestly say that I never for a moment felt alone.
   On an interesting side note, my hair seems to be rallying.  No one seems to be able to tell me if it'll make it to the end, but it is definitely trying to make a comeback!  Best case scenario: I get a bit of a head start on getting my hair back!  Worst case scenario: it all ends just washing off again before I'm done.  But I've not only got fuzz on my head, I've also got my beard back and actually have to shave every couple days!

#blowingupmtlymphoma #raptors4opal