Waiting for the shoe to drop

I'm trying not to be pessimistic, but I honestly find it hard to believe these side effects are the biggest, baddest ones to be doled out by this chemotherapy combination. Quite honestly, they're inconvenient but not onerous.

I fluctate between having good energy, initiative and racing ideas to being lethargically tired and unable to concentrate beyond my bed and a book. I've tried to nap during the down times, but I believe the steroids coursing through my system stymie the mind-sinking phenomenon necessary to drift into dreamland. Luckily, I took my last dose of the small, hexagonal white pills last night, so perhaps my next nap time will be more productive.

Yet, the bonus of the anti-nausea medications, Dexamethasone and Ondansetron, is the quelling of my nauseous stomach, which allows me to eat. I can enjoy small meals, reaping the nutritional and social aspects of partaking in the sharing of food. Now, I still reply on nutritional supplements (and I'm thankful to the generous friend who supplied me with some) for some of the meals I can't quite stomach and to provide me with the balanced nutrition I need and may not necessarily get with the foods I crave.

Ironically these same little pills that encourage me to ingest food into my body are backing up my bowels, despite regular quaffing of the stool softening and poop-inducing (nice technical term, eh?) medications of Colasce and Sennokot. I've got lots of uncomfortable cramping and movement in the bowel region, but no relief.

And the steroids slightly veered me towards to the path of Bitchy Tina last night. Maybe it was tiredness or lack of a good bowel movement, but I felt more irritated than normal by dinner time (a meal, I incidently skipped).

Other than those semi-mild side effects mentioned above, I've experienced flushed cheeks, restless (but not painful legs), dull eyes with small pupils, a minor, gall-bladder type pain under my right breast and possibly, a small dulling of my tastebuds. Of course, I also have the discomfort of filling up with ascities, which luckily isn't major right now.

But based on my previous, horrible experience with chemo, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Day three (which would be today) used to drop me into a deep, dark well of depression, bone pain and an out-of-body experience. Even thought Dr. W said the side effects tend to appear right after treatment, and both he and the chemo nurse said they were generally pretty mild, I'm afraid to believe it. I don't want to trust this is the worst and then be sucked into the hellish vortex. That's why I'm keeping an open mind, taking small trips, making minimal plans and sticking pretty close to home over the next few days.

But if this is the worst the Carbo/Gemcitibine chemo combination is going to throw at me - with positive, cancer-shrinking results - I'll be thrilled. So keep working my little, black ninjas with the same stealth and pain-free efficiency you've employed so far. I'll send in some Gemcitibine reinforcements on Thursday.

From where I sit right now, the day lays before us with promise. We should all do what we can to get out and enjoy this beautiful Sunday. It's a good day to be alive.

Tina