Round Two

My hair started falling out in droves June 1, twelve days after my first treatment.  Kevin shaved my head June 2.  It's better to just shave it.  There's just something very disturbing about watching it fall out.  We did it with Midori there in the hopes that she would see the transition and be more understanding of the change.  She asked me for a couple of days, "is mama a boy now?".  "Is mama pretending to be a boy now?".  Other than some gender assignment questions she seems unphased.  I've received a lot of compliments on both my bald head and my wig.  I feel like I'm gradually turning into a plastic person.  Fake breast.  Fake hair.  My lashes are getting patchy.  Perhaps, I'll go for false lashes as a tribute to my silicon self. 

The Tuesday after my second treatment, I spent the morning on the bathroom floor in the fetal position.  I called the oncologist's service (from the floor).  When he called me back, I explained that my stomach was cramping/burning.  It literally felt like a five alarm fire in my stomach.  He told me to take some Prilosec which helped tremendously.  I spent most of the day laying in bed or partially propped up in bed.  Other than Tuesday, I've spent a good portion of each day up and about. 

I spent most of last night awake.  One of the anti-nausea meds that I take at bedtime for several days following the infusion is also a sleeping pill.  It wasn't in the regimen for last night.  I wonder if I'm developing a dependency.  I could call the oncologist, and I'm sure he would tell me about some more pills I can take to combat the side effects of the pills that combat the side effects.  I have become a walking pharmacy.  The worst of round two seems to be over although the very thought of another treatment makes me queasy.

In other news, I've lost my taste for chocolate and coffee.  Talk about adding insult to injury.  I find myself craving raw fruits and vegetables.  I have never craved a carrot stick in my life.  Let's revisit.  Fake hair, fake breast, fake lashes, subsisting on carrots.  Sounds more like a model than a cancer patient.  Ha!