Yesterday, I left work at noon to get unplugged from chemo round 2 and you know what, I felt good! I mean not good, good but definitely not “I want to crawl into bed for 72 hours and not be disturbed”. I called my husband on my way and told him we were eating out and heading to the trails because I had grabbed round 2 of chemo by the balls and made him my B****.
As I was being unplugged, I mentioned to my nurse that my arm felt tight and that my hand had gone numb earlier, forcing me to drop a potato chip. I normally would not have mentioned a numb hand as it is not that alarming, but I had dropped a chip and well, if you know me at all, you know this is NOT normal behavior.
I do not drop potato chips, EVER!
The nurse was not alarmed but mentioned it to the doc and to another nurse and before I knew it they sent me across town for an ultrasound. They did an ultrasound of my upper arm and told me they found a blood clot (I am assuming in my armpit, since that is where they kept returning to with that little jelly probe). So they called my doctor, while I redressed and climbed into a chair to wait. I am not sure if I waited 5 minutes or 20 because about 30 seconds in, I said “F-it, I’m chemo tired” and I grabbed a fresh blanket from the blanket warmer and climbed back up onto the gurney in the exam room and took a tiny cat nap until they returned. What? The lighting was dimmed, I was sleepy and the chair was not exactly a Lazyboy.
Fast forward a few hours and 3 more trips back and forth across town, and I was finally at home with a months’ supply of 2x a day stomach injections. ALL perkiness about kicking round 2 in the balls had now vanished. I was grumpy. The injection was painless and having an RN as a sister was magnificent as she stayed for a sleepover to give me my morning shot and taught my husband how to give shots like a champ. Still, I sulked.
This morning was a new day and when my “stomach injection” alarm went off at 6am, I did not hate the world, I hit snooze. 9 minutes later, I shook my hubby awake and we stumbled downstairs, where I flopped onto the couch. With my head under a blanket, checking my Instagram feed, he stabbed me in the stomach. I didn’t even feel it.
I will not miss this part of treatment and am hoping my blood thins out and does whatever the hell it is supposed to do on the sooner side of sooner or later.
However, today is a new day and the chemo haze is lifting. The worst part of this is not the shots, it is the take it easy and stay still directive.
You see I get through chemo week, knowing that by chemo weekend, I will feel almost normal and I will get a run or a bike ride in and I will sweat it out and feel so, so very proud of whatever I manage to do.
This weekend I will be sitting around drinking coffee and cursing that little blood clot for benching me, again. However, with 2 stomach injections a day, I know that little bugger can’t stick along for long. Since I have definitely skipped a week or month or year of working out in the past for much lamer reasons, I know it is only a matter of time till I am lacing up my kicks for a little alone time on a back country road.