The Chemo Coaster

The first chemo cycle is nearly over. That means he got the chemo, felt like crap from the drugs, felt better, then felt like crap again from the low blood counts, and now feels better again. I've drawn a highly scientific graph to give you a visual.


Highly Scientific Visual Representation of a Chemo Cycle

From now until the next round, he should feel pretty good (they say and we hope). He'll be getting chemo every three weeks. The first two weeks of the cycle are when the drugs and his body work the hardest, the third is for rest and recovery to get him ready for the next round.

We've been up and down, up and down. It's like chemo is playing a head game, and that's the hardest part for me. I'm okay with down. I'm great with up. I suck at rapidly switching between the two - but then, we know I struggle with transitions. Just like a toddler, I need lots of warning before a change. Hopefully, now that I know generally what to expect, I'll be better prepared to ride the Chemo Coaster with him. I know that my mental state greatly affects his ability to cope, so it's important that I keep myself together.

And, thanks to last week's insanity, now I know that when I start to come apart at the seams, I need to grab the loppers and unleash my nervous energy on the overgrowth in our yard. Luckily, we don't love yard work, so there's plenty that needs lopping. Next up? The Camellias. I don't think they are supposed to be shade trees.

I'll leave you with my favorite thing I've heard today (and there have been some good ones since Luke learned how to turn on the extra phone and interrupt a conversation).

"I feel great!" - Dave, enthusiastically, during our lunch time check in.

It was good for my soul.