As round 6 of chemotherapy looms just 22 hours away, I can’t help but reflect on this past week—one of the toughest so far. After round 5, I felt hopeful. I had energy on Friday and Saturday, took my injections as prescribed, and thanks to Claritin, managed to keep the bone pain mostly at bay. But when Monday hit, my body had other ideas. The bone pain came roaring back in my hips and pelvis, making every step feel like I was walking on broken glass. And then, of course, the devil—diarrhea—came back for his weekly visit.
Imodium AD has become my go-to defense, but even that wasn’t enough to keep the devil away for long. By Monday night, I was in the bathroom every five minutes for an hour and a half. The stomach cramps were so bad that nausea was right on the edge of joining in, but thankfully, I managed to avoid it. I grabbed my Olanzapine, popped one, and the next thing I remember, my 3:00 a.m. alarm was going off. Work? Not happening. My body was screaming for rest.
I tried again at 7:00 a.m., but the dizziness had me spinning like a carnival ride. So back to bed I went. My mom checked on me a few times during the day and found me in different positions, knocked out like I was in a sleep marathon. It wasn’t until 2:40 p.m. when another alarm woke me that I started to feel somewhat human again.
Even then, the devil wasn’t done with me. Throughout the rest of the day, I dealt with his antics—stomach issues, cramps, the works. I tried everything to shake it: short walks, warm drinks, popsicles, more Imodium. But it always seems worse when it’s time to sleep.
Aside from the usual suspects, I’ve noticed other changes creeping in. My nails have gotten darker around the nail beds, and I’m praying this isn’t a sign that they’ll turn completely dark. The last thing I need is to start looking like I’m auditioning for a vampire movie. And while I’ve been lucky to avoid mouth sores, my tongue has developed this strange film. I use a tongue scraper to keep it clean, but the texture of my tongue has changed, and so has the taste of my food. Everything feels… off. Even the things I usually enjoy don’t taste quite right.
This week, I’ve felt defeated and weaker than I have in previous rounds. I had hoped to feel rested and ready for round 6, but right now, it’s going to take a miracle to get me there. And you know what? I’m open to that miracle, because ready or not, round 6 is just around the corner.
Here’s to hoping for strength, resilience, and maybe a little help from above.
