I feel the burn.
It’s that almost-pleasant ache you get after a hard workout. It’s a rather unfamiliar sensation since I’m not big into breaking a sweat, but I have taken a hike or two in my day and know how my muscles protested afterwards.
And now I get to experience that righteous glow of post-workout gratification without having to actually exercise.
My Neulasta shot is kicking in.
Neulasta stimulates your bone marrow to hurry up and make infection-fighting white blood cells to replace the ones wiped out by chemo. I’m getting a shot of it 24 hours after each chemo session.
So far it’s really not that bad. I’m not writhing from growing pains as agonizing as being stretched on a rack or immobilized by the sensation of cement hardening in my veins – both experiences that other chemo patients on Neulasta have described.
Instead I feel a burn in my legs, hips and back. It could pass as post-workout glow, except I’m not deluded enough to believe that my copious couch time and a few gentle walks could have generated this sensation.
I have been pumping iron, actually – every day. My version of it involves hefting six or seven bottles of dietitian-prescribed supplements, grunting to remove the child-proof caps and then choking down the Brobdingnagian pills plus one rather nasty tonic – a health-food-store version of Geritol for my iron-poor blood.
My other post-chemo effects have subsided to mild. The drugs did nip nausea in the bud, hallelulah. I’ve had some tummy upset since that first night but nothing killer. I’m exhausted and have been conking out for nine or 10 hours a night but that’s what I always do when I’m coming down with something – which is what this feels like.
All in all, I’m relieved that my most dire fears haven’t come to pass.
Chemo is cumulative. Its effects often get more pronounced and longer-lasting with each cycle so there may be more problems ahead, but for now, I’m breathing a sigh of relief to have made it through Round One.
So how long do you get to recover between assaults?
ReplyDeleteReading your blogs feels like reading about a lopsided boxing match. Two against one. Carol versus the cancer and the chemo. Except its not really two against one. You have a lot of people in your corner cheering for you to win the match. You may not win every bout but you will win the match but its a helluva fight. I can hear Howard Cossell announcing it right now:
ReplyDelete"The chemo and cancer deliver a powerful blow to the gut. Said is forced to the ropes. She grimaces. But she fights back like a champ. The cancer and chemo try to outmanuver her but her fancy footwork keeps them at bay. She does the rope a dope dance, some hopscotch moves and some rock and roll dancing and its hard for the chemo and cancer to hit a moving target. She looks tired but has that inner strength that is a trait of great boxers. She is a hall of famer for sure - Johnson, Lewis, Dempsey, Marciano and Said The cancer and chemo hit her somewhere below the belt. The referee issues a stern warning to them for the foul and sneaky bastards that they are they try and deny it but the referee will have none of it. The ref says they will lose a point for that round which could cost them the match if the fight goes to the end. She is such a complicated athlete. I've never seen anything like her in the ring. She throws a right hook an upper cut and does an obscure Ethiopian folk dance from the 1300s that seems to daze the cancer and the chemo. As Said moves quickly all over the ring with her feet barely touching the canvas her designer light purple and mauve boxing shorts with day glow women's symbols and peace signs flow with her every move. She changes outfits between rounds and the fans are always applauding her entrance. Everything she wears is bought at second hand stores and most it is made of hemp. She is setting a new trend in ring wear unlike anything I've seen since the wrestler Gorgeous George. The bell rings or should I say gongs because at Said's insistence they are using Tibetan gongs instead of a bell. She says even though its a fight she wants the sounds of peace in the air.
Another bout is over. She staggers as she goes to her corner but she does it in a triumphant style and waves to her many cheering fans that have packed the house. Some of her fans are taking up donations for environmental causes and point out that Said is using biodegradable body oil and that her gloves are made from an environmentally friendly leather substitute - another first for the Big C. It looks like no one is there for cancer and chemo. They are disgusting and no one cheers for them. Actually when they step forward to mess with Said the hall is filled with boos and ancient curses instead of cheers. Between rounds Said talks to her coach the Mighty Magic Miracle Worker Mark Friedman. While new to this sport Friedman brings decades of experience from poker playing which seems to translate well into boxing. Except every once in a while in his excitement he yells to the ring - I'll take another card. This confuses everyone and for a moment people think they are in a Las Vegas casino instead of Madison Square Garden. In the break between bouts Said has an interesting ritual. She chews on some Chinese herbs, eats tofu and alfalfa sprouts, takes a swig of herbal tea, does some Soduku and then she pets her cats. She seems to get a lot of energy from the felines. Quite unorthodox in the annals of boxing but it seems to work. Said and Friedman meditate together and decide on the strategy for the next round and she bounces back from the corner cracking a joke that intimidates the cancer and the chemo. I've never seen someone take such punishment and laugh about it. Humor seems to be her secret weapon and I think she is psyching out the cancer and the chemo big time. Mohammed Ali has nothing on her! We're early in the fight but the bookies are betting big time on Said. This is Howard Cossell at ringside at the fight of the century! We'll keep you posted!"
love
Larry
Thanks for sharing, Carolyn. It's a pleasure to read your writing. Your descriptions of your experiences are gripping. They bring so much of it back for me. And if you're taking votes, I prefer cancer victor to cancer survivor.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Rachel
Howzabout "Cancer Vixen?" I also have used "Cancer Veteran." (Where's our Medal of Honor?)
ReplyDeleteOceans of love,
Lori