This week was a rollercoaster of lab appointments, hair loss, and my third round of chemo. Let’s start with the labs—oh, what a joy. I was all set for the usual blood draw from my trusty port. Easy peasy, right? Wrong. They stuck me twice, and the first time, the needle wasn’t even in correctly. The second time, nothing. No blood return. Nada. Zip. I’m sitting there like a human pretzel while they have me twisting and turning, doing a Cirque du Soleil routine to get some blood flowing. They’re saying, “Turn your head, lift your arm,” and I’m thinking, “Should I be doing yoga for this?”
Naturally, this whole ordeal sent my blood pressure skyrocketing. I mean, where is the saline going? Am I secretly being filled up like a balloon? Turns out, there’s a whole science to it, but at that moment, I was just trying to survive. In the end, they had to go through my arm, so three sticks in one appointment. Three! But hey, good news—the injections worked, and I was cleared for treatment. Woohoo?
Fast forward to Thursday (10/3)—Treatment Day. Of course, my girl Melissa, aka my rockstar, my bestie, my partner-in-crime, was ready to roll. New nurses today, and they got to work in the usual sterile, “Let’s pretend we’re in a sci-fi movie” way. This time, they actually got a blood return from my port—hallelujah! I also had my Keytruda infusion (every 21 days, baby). Melissa chose the movie Game Night, and somewhere between the comedy and the Benadryl kicking in, I drifted off into La-La Land. We even had time for Hocus Pocus and Something from Tiffany’s, which basically tells you how long I was there. We could’ve watched an entire season of something! After the uneventful treatment, I made it home and took a glorious nap.
Now, about that hair. It started thinning last week, especially at the front. Not too bad, but noticeable. I’d already made peace with losing my hair—after all, it’s part of the package deal, right? So, I’m not freaking out… much. Over the week, it’s been a steady shedding session. I rub my head, and clumps of hair fall out like I’m sitting in a barbershop chair. At this point, I might as well ask someone to sweep up the imaginary floor. By yesterday (10/4), I figured I’d just wash it to get rid of the loose strands. Spoiler alert: After washing and conditioning, there wasn’t much left to cut. One more wash, and I’ll be sporting the full-bald look. Honestly, I’m halfway to looking like Mr. Clean already.
The weekend’s here, and I’m bracing myself for potential stomach issues, but I’m crossing my fingers that this round will be kinder to me. Here’s to hoping for a calm weekend, minus any more surprise trips to Pretend Barber Shops!
