Since Round 2 and that lovely blood transfusion, I’m still here, chugging along and constantly waiting for the big “intense aftermath” that everyone warned me about. So far, it hasn’t hit me like a ton of bricks—more like an occasional pebble to the shin. Most mornings, I wake up full of enthusiasm, ready to conquer the world. But my body often has other plans.
I’m grateful I don’t have that all-encompassing “unwell” feeling, but bone pain and diarrhea are still sticking around like uninvited guests at a party. I take my Claritin as prescribed, but Fulphila loves to keep things interesting. By Day 7, when Claritin is no longer covering the shift, the injection still works its magic in the form of random shocks of pain in my thighs, hips, jaw, arms, and chest. And let me tell you, chest pain is not for the faint of heart—or the overactive imagination. In my best Fred Sanford voice: “Elizabeth, I’m coming, honey!”
My Neuropathy Chronicles
I know I’ve talked about chemo side effects before, but neuropathy deserves its own spotlight. It’s like a bad roommate who refuses to move out.
Let’s channel Sophia from The Golden Girls: Picture it—your hands are in an awkward position, and they fall asleep. You move them, and they’re tingly and painful for a moment, but eventually, the circulation returns, and all is well. Now imagine that circulation never returns, and your hands remain tingly, numb, and painful all the time. That’s my life right now.
My hands feel tight and swollen, making everyday tasks like buttoning clothes, typing, and even feeling hot items nearly impossible. I’m holding onto hope that this isn’t permanent, but research says it could be. Oh, and my feet? They’ve joined the malfunction party too, from my toes to the balls of my feet.
Blurry Vision: A Plot Twist
On top of that, my vision has taken a turn. A couple of years ago, I had Lasik done to escape glasses and contacts. Now? Chemo has hit the undo button. Some days, I probably shouldn’t be driving, but I get by on pure muscle memory and familiar roads. I can’t read signs or license plates, but hey, I can see traffic lights and avoid bumping into things. Small victories, right? Research says my vision should return post-chemo, so fingers crossed (if I can cross them without pain).
Taste Buds and Birthday Feasts
Amid all this, I’m trying to maintain some normalcy. My son Christopher just celebrated his 11th birthday, and we had a great time with games and food. Well, he did. For me, food remains a mystery. My taste buds are still playing hide-and-seek, and I’m not sure if they’re peeking out or if my brain is just tricking me.
I’ve been fantasizing about the day my taste buds fully return. The one meal I can’t stop thinking about? A Burger King Whopper. Every time I see a commercial, I swear I can taste it through the screen. I tell myself it’s going to be my ultimate comeback meal. I can smell food just fine, which makes it even weirder to say, “Wow, this smells amazing,” only to take a bite and think, “Well, that’s disappointing.”
Gloves On, Eyes Forward
I bet I sound calm about all of this. Truth? I’m not calm—I’m just choosing not to freak out about things I can’t control. I am a fighter, and my gloves are firmly on. Two more rounds of chemo are on the horizon, and I’m focused on the fight ahead.
After this phase, I’ll shift gears to rebuild myself from head to toe. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m leaning on prayer, hope, and perseverance to get me through.
The ring isn’t empty yet, but I see the finish line. Let’s do this! 💪
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