There are five days of treatment left: five more microblasts and one last round of chemotherapy. I do not think things will get much worse from this point forward, and believe me, things got pretty bad along the way.
Suck #1 started on a Friday. The cumulative effects of about 10 days of radiation treatment finally took hold and would not let go. Saliva was thickening, sores were developing, and swallowing became extremely painful. The Notorious P E G wasn’t to be installed until that Monday, and they shoved me into the O.R. schedule to get that done when they did. Additionally, I had to wait until Tuesday to used the tube. I believe I shed 12 pounds in that week alone. All the side effects were eventually reigned in, and I was more than happy to take in food, water and medicine through the tube.
Here is a hint: They say “Feeding tube!”
You say, “Yes, please… as soon as possible.”
It is better to have and not need, then need and not have. Yes, it is a little cumbersome to live with. Try not being able to swallow anything for a few days.
Suck #2 wasn’t too bad and started the following weekend. My voice gave up the ghost for about two weeks, right after completing the Sock Swag interviews. It definitely stopped all my lessons, but it also kept me off the phone and gave me a lot of time to ponder things.
Suck #3 was the worst weekend of all. The combined treatments tweaked my gag reflex really-super-hard-core bad. Imagine this: you yawn and then immediately start gagging. It was that bad! This actually happened at the Radiation Station immediately prior to treatment a Thursday. I was broken and beaten at that point. This is the time we suspended radiation treatment for five calendar days. The break was nice, but the hypersensitive gag reflex never let up. Again, no food or drink stayed down so I stopped feeding and dropped more weight. That Sunday was the worst. I woke up... coughed once... and began dry heaving over a bucket for the next five minutes. Through snivels and tears, I told my Wendy I couldn’t keep doing this. She called both oncologists and together they cracked the code. Everything has remained under control since then. Which brings us to suck #4.
Suck #4 is the exterior of my neck. It is beginning to split open like a polish sausage on the grill. The problem is the skin is cooking from the inside out. There is no elasticity in the skin, so turning the head from side to side is out of the question. We are trying the juice from an aloe vera plant as a remedy. Still… this is not Suck #3 and I can deal with this. That uncontrolled dry heaving was the worst experience by far!!!
I know each person’s experience in the cancer space is different. These four sucks were the low points of my experience.