I’m two weeks into my second chemo cycle and all is not well.
It started going wrong when they hooked me up to my second round of Taxol. Ten minutes later, I felt odd. my tongue and lips felt prickled, and I felt flushed. I told Chris that I felt funny and he looked up from the internet and confirmed I had red blotches creeping up my neck and my face. I pressed the nurse button, and Chris rushed out to get someone, and in a few seconds I was surrounded by nurses pulling the Taxol drip, pulling blood from my arm, pushing hydrocortisone into me and setting up a flush to dissipate what Taxol may have been in my system. I didn’t tell them that what I’d really been worried about was that it had felt like someone was sitting on my chest. That went away pretty much as soon as they stopped the drip. I didn’t realise it at the time, but that was the start of my heart giving up, and I could have died.
So no more Taxol for me.
Because of how late in the day it was, and the lack of consultant staff in the hospital, I was sent home full of steroids and tears, wondering where this would leave me. Where this would leave my tumour. Where this would leave my future. It wasn’t a good day.
They called me back in the following day to have the Carboplatin part, only an hour’s worth but better than nothing, I figured, and I left quite positive. But now, a couple of weeks later, I’m not so sure.
I have to go back in on the 24th for chemo again but it will only be the Carboplatin part. And while again, I’m happy to be getting Something, it’s still not what I was supposed to have, not the planned course, not what supposed to cure me. And it’s really hard to be positive about it. What if half the medicine means half the job?
I have another scan booked in for the 30th. I can’t wait for it. Even though it will mean I have the wait for the results of it too. The scan will determine the next step. Whether I have an operation in the next month or so, or more chemotherapy. I’m definitely not ready to lie down and let this thing take me yet, so they better have something else up their sleeves.
I’m annoyed at my body. First for letting the Cancer spread, leaving me needing this treatment, but more for deciding it’s allergic to the thing that would fix me. On the second go, instead of the first. When the damage has already been done, and my hair has already fallen out. If it had happened on the first go I’d still have my hair. It feels like a cruel trick.
So, I feel a little in limbo again.
And I don’t like how this feels.