I had chemo number eight this morning - I am done with four full cycles. I'm pretty happy that it happened, since I ended up with a cold and a UTI over the last two weeks. Infections are not a good thing and can send an entire treatment plan into flux. Fortunately, my white counts stayed in normal range during the whole thing, so I'm okay. The cold is basically gone. I still cough occassionally, but just a bit. The UTI is under control. I'm on Cipro, which seems excessive, but that's what they give to cancer patients.
There was a time when I thought I would be done with chemo by this point and moving on to radiation. But, no radiation for me - at least at this point. I have a CT next week, which will give me more information about what happens next. If my lymph nodes have become smaller, in the way they are supposed to get smaller, I'll continue with the chemo and then have another CT after six full cycles. At that point, more decisions will be made about what comes next. Hopefully, I'll be done. But, the doctor could decide for radiation (if the lymph nodes are not shrinking enough) or opt for more chemo. But, given the results at the last PET/CT, I'm hopeful the nodes are shrinking and I'm scheduled to be finished by the end of the year.
I'm almost done with a first draft of my dissertation defense presentation. Given that I'm sitting in bed, I know it is going to be difficult to get anything done the next few days, but I'm going to try. I need to get the first draft off to my chair. I find it very difficult to sit in desk chairs, or other high back seats (like a kitchen/dining room chair) in the first few days after chemo. I'm so achy and uncomfortable, that even being half propped up against the windows in my bed is more comfortable. It doesn't make for easy typing or easy use of notes/books/assorted study things.
One last thing - a note of appreciation to my darling hubby. He's really taken the brunt of this cancer thing. Work is not the happiest place right now given the current state of the economy and he comes home and has to wait on me. Hand and foot. Even when I'm feeling somewhat normal, he is stuck with all the dirty stuff like dishes, washing sheets and towels, litter box cleaning, etc. It has been a tough few months for him. And we met 10 years ago this last Saturday night. Our first date included meeting for drinks, dinner, a walk by the river (when he excused himself to pee down the river bank - that was almost a deal breaker, but what are you going to do?), talking in his car, the first snow flakes of the season, and early breakfast at Perkins. I love you weetie.
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