Descending Dysmorphia

 I had a little scare at home alone last week.

The day after my last hospital stay, I did a little too much when I probably should have been resting.  But, that’s all I do when I’m at the hospital—rest. When I’m home, I want to be out getting stuff done.  That day I went into town for a clinic visit, had coffee with an old friend, and then came back to Batesville to attend a friend’s book-signing event at the Market. As the evening wore on, I could feel myself fade. After the event, a friend walked me home and I quickly hit the bed.  In the middle of the night, I woke up drenched in sweat and stumbled to the bathroom, feeling quite nauseous and woozy. When I reached for the trashcan, I fell off the toilet and found myself lying on the bathroom floor wondering where I was. I managed to get myself up again and emptied myself out…from both ends. When the episode subsided, I made my way back to bed and quickly fell asleep. When I awoke the next morning, the memory of what had happened came flooding back to me and I said to myself, “Uh-oh, that wasn’t good.”

I reported the event to my doctor who suggested that I drink more water to keep the toxins diluted and then shot a text to the Lady Hawks, to let them know what happened and that I was feeling better. Bonnie insisted that I sleep in her guest room the following night. This really bummed me out. Not Bonnie’s guest room -- it’s lovely -- and not the fact that I have friends who are checking in on and are concerned about me, but the thought that my independence may be in jeopardy this early in the game.  Bonnie and I shared a lovely dinner and movie together and I got through the night without incident.

The next day, the bone pain kicked in.

The Neulasta shot I got at the clinic stimulates bone marrow growth, which promotes the production of neutrophils (white blood cells), all in an attempt to counteract the depletion of neutrophils that occurs with chemotherapy. This rapid production of neutrophils expands and increases the pressure inside the bones and that causes a significant amount of pain. I call it bone-crushing pain, but I suspect that crushed bones hurt even more. This pain lasts a few days and keeps my fatigue company.

Other post-chemo symptoms are also appearing and starting to bum me out.

My body feels weird in general, and when I look in the mirror, I don’t always recognize myself. Now that I’ve had two full rounds of toxic chemicals pumped into me, I’m starting to feel like my body is not my own. 

Unexpected weight loss was one of my early symptoms that alerted me that something was wrong and led to my diagnosis.  I had lost 12 pounds in just over a month. I’ve gained a few of these back, but have also lost a lot of muscle mass in the last few months. My arms are flabby, my butt is flat, and my feet have shrunk (I’m down a Birkenstock buckle hole).

While in the hospital, and for about a week after treatment, my skin smells funny. The toxins excrete through my sweat glands and I can also smell it in my pee. I’ve recently learned that chemo pee is not good for septic tanks, so I’ll have to do some additional upkeep on that that system. Who knew? I guess that’s one good thing about my long hospital stays is that my most toxic pee is deposited there.  Chemo farts are also a thing. Just saying, in case you're in my vicinity.

One of the drugs that’s included in my 96-hour intravenous cocktail is Vincristine. It targets rapidly dividing cells and has neurotoxic side effects. After my first treatment, I experienced nerve-related hearing changes and these have continued. Being in groups of people sounds cacophonous. Now, after my second treatment, I have neuropathy in my hands and feet, which causes numbness and tingling and makes me a little wobbly at times.  Unfortunately, these neurotoxic side effects will likely be permanent.

And, if all of that was not enough, chemo-brain is kicking in. The other two drugs included in the 96-hour infusion, cyclophosphamide and doxorubicin, cause a sort of mental fog, known clinically as cancer-related cognitive dysfunction. For me, I’m experiencing this as short-term memory loss, searching for words, forgetting what I’m doing, and a lack of concentration. It’s really disconcerting and, frankly, the combination of these symptoms is making me a bit irritable---or maybe that’s the prednisone?

Apologies in advance if I’m short with you, cancel visits, or come off as anti-social.  It’s just me, adjusting to these changes to my mind and body.