Monday, December 01, 2003

Monday night and I can barely focus to write. Pain. Every third thought in my head is "do not vomit, you need the fluids" then I try to fight back the gag reflexes.

Thursday checked into hospital, got chemo. got turkey, kept it in a bit. Sara stayed, Jack came to visit, Sara left, Eileen, Jim & Ryan stopped by. Slept overnight taking fluids. had to urinate hourly, so not much sleep. Began vomiting at 4am, did not stop til 9am. very noisy, very scattered, lots of different nurses.

Friday, took more chemo. Anti Naus helped.

Friday afternoon, checked out, Sara drove me home. In bed, sweating and hallucinating all night. Lots of nausea and vomit. Could not hold in any fluids.

Saturday, this is when the chemo actually starts running its course through my body, and trying to get out. at any opening. My ears are ultra sensitive, I have a headache, I have no strength. My tears burn my face. my urine burns, I have vomited so much just rolling over makes me need to.

My throat is sore and parched, it feels like it has been turned inside out. I'm in bed seeing things that are obviously not here.

NO, I cannot answer the phone, I can barely type. Any input, any noise sets me off.

SURE, YAY! I am done with chemo. But not with the slow chemical burn, as it kills off all the living cells in my body, on its way out.

My breath feels like a poision yellow cloud, just like my vomit, bile and urine. I cannot breathe it out fast enough to get the poision stench away from my face. It is a fight just to get in a sip of water, and that comes out moments later.

Saturday night is a blur of pain. Sunday does not improve. Fortunately, Sara goes out to watch movies and go to a museum or something. I want to die. This is truly the worst. My kidneys hurt, if I go to pee, I will vomit. If I vomit, I cannot stop untill it is dry heaves and body wracking torture. When it all slows down I return to bed, sip a capful of water, and wait 10 minutes for the next round.

Monday morning, finally, salvation. Drive me to the clinic. Hydration is only an IV prick away. My veins are so tight and ropey, they are bruised, scarred, tender and thick.

It takes 5 attempts over 1 hour to finally get in a vein that gives enough blood return to be useable. I throw up 3 times during this. I am drenched in sweat and tears. Diane the nurse has truly done her most admirable work. We will leave the IV in overnight, and hope it works out. (this also makes me nauseous, i can see and feel it now, while I type)

I take 1,500 ml of fluids. As well as 2 shots to rebuild blood cells. All I can do is curl in the chair and let the fluids drip in. My hair started to grow back in over the long week, and now it is dead again, and all the ingrowns are getting pushed out.

Yeah, thanks for all the nice emails about how chemo is done. But Chemo is not done. I will probably have to hydrate all week long. I can barely breathe. The Nausea is worst I have ever experienced. My throat and sinuses are raw and bloody. My brain is skipping from thought to thought, with every 3rd being "do not vomit"

I am weak, I cannot eat, I can barely stand. All input hurts.

IF I am lucky, at the end of this week, I will have flushed enough of the Cisplatin out that I can drink on my own, and have the nausea under control

December 17th I am set for CAT Scan to see if we got it, and Doctor's followup on the 23rd. My pal Jack took photos last week at the clinic. I do not look my best, but if ya wanna see.

I keep telling myself "Just hold on, you WILL survive this. Be positive" some days it is much harder to be positive than others.

thanks again for all your prayers and wishes.

and a special thought tomorrow, Dec 2, which is Sara's Birthday. I am going to have to have "make-up" this year.

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