Hello everyone...
Sorry for the long delay in updating my blog...I just haven't really had anything interesting to share. And to those of you who sent me emails...thank you for your concern, but this girl is doing just fine.
So, lets see...since reducing my chemo dosage (which my body is oh so appreciative of) I haven't really had any shortness of breath and the insane level of fatigue I was feeling. Now I am just mildly fatigued, gag a lot and barf on occasion...no kidding...oh boy. Plus occasional nausea and coughing...grin. I assume because of the reduced dosage my hair, eyebrows and eyelashes are returning. I no longer resemble Uncle Fester...I look more like a chubby albino as my hair (scarce but noticeable) is white. Pure as the driven snow white. Honky white. I am 10 days into cycle number five. Then I'll get a two week chemo vacation before starting cycle six. At the end of cycle six I will have a CAT scan. Keep your fingers crossed boys and girls that I am clean!
I have labs only on Monday (December 30th) as my white blood cell counts are still in the crapper. I just squeaked by this time to resume treatment. Then labs and a check up with Dr. McC. on January 20th.
Unrelated news flash...on Christmas Eve I doggy sat my friend Michelle's little Pomeranian, Bebe. Michelle dropped her off at around 6:45am. Michelle popped up the front stairs dog carrier in hand, dropped her off and popped back down the stairs. About 30 minutes later I decided to take Bebe on a potty break before laying back down. Visualize this if you will....I'm in my nighty and robe, barefoot, Bebe's leash in my right hand. I head down the stairs...one, two...at which point my feet fly out front underneath me and I do a one and a half pike down the front stairs. On my back I promptly sit up and say "f**k that hurt." I look at my neighbors house directly across the street hoping that they didn't see me as I'm sure they would have been on their front porch holding up signs giving me a 9.5 for my dismount. Results...right elbow us ugly, big bruise and I have a strawberry the size of a fifty cent piece. Left foot...the one that I shoved into the solid wood railing on the way down with my delicate frame....hmmmmm.....think Fred Flintstone, black and blue, minor chunks missing on a couple of toes...little toe is broken for sure and the piggy next to it is in question. Back hurts, right should hurts, right thigh hurts, pride...gone (not really). Here comes the best part. When my friend Michelle called round 9:00am to check in I explained what happened. She replied "holy crap, are you OK"? Followed with....your stairs were kind of icy this morning. Really?
