Today rather sucked as my days have gone by lately. I may be able to chalk a lot of it up to anxiety because Lord knows I woke up more than nervous.
I made a few slices of that peach crumble bread as toast, grabbed a bottle on Ensure, and a tall glass of water... to go with the four Xeloda pills. I spaced the out as I ate but only after staring them down and praying hard that I could do this.
I looked at them in the little Pyrex dish I used to keep my hands off of them. I'm afraid of handling them too much and passing their poison on to Jody or the dogs or someone else. I told them, "Okay, you're going to make me sick. But only so much." Jody woke up and I went to the top of the stairs to just hug her and cry for a bit because, well, I'm scared. I'm more afraid of the pills because I know I could just flush them instead of taking them. But if I do that, I will not get better. I have to get worse before I can get better.
A few hours later Jody and I arrived at the radiologist for my first radiation treatment today. That went okay with just a slight hiccup on when I would actually get my first treatment. The Xeloda was sitting just fine and my sense of humor was back. The technicians kept addressing me as Mr. Scofield, Mr. Scofield, and I finally said, laying prone on the table, "Listen, my pants are down. You guys can call me John. Okay?" That got a few laughs and I endured an itch on my ankle for... ev... er...
Jody took me to lunch at La Madelaine and I ordered too much. A little more than half a French Dip sandwich and a cup of soup went down easy but got me pretty tired by the time we got back home. The plan had been to split up and go to work.
But we called Dr. Grasso's office for some more advice on caring for the incision and the port. We could drop by any time and Jody did not want to get caught i rush hour traffic. As I went for the door, a wave of nausea struck me and I figured, this time, I'll take one of the pills I've been prescribed for this. Maybe the Xeloda isn't all that great after all?
Big mistake. The Compazine knocked me silly. I tried to ride it out in the truck but I was mroe falling asleep than not feeling ill. By the time we reached Dr. Grasso's, I was falling asleep in between steps. They got me back into the exam room and Dr. Grasso checked me out. The incision is not infected (a big worry) and the liquid skin stuff will come off on its own. My blood pressure was a little elevated and my heartrate was 100... he reckoned between the medicines and the anxiety that I'd worked myself up pretty good. Message received. Chill.
I prayed and dozed on the way home and crashed. I got a call from my pal Steven whom schemed his pal Nate into coming over this afternoon and sparing off the wheels on my car. Now I can drive in the rain safely. The summer tires coming off the front of the car are nearly done though the rear tires are in very fine shape. I should have rotated them between track days earlier this year but I seem to remember being really tired at those times...
The second round of chemo is down the hatch so Day One is complete. I think I may need to grab a small bag of black licorice instead of the Compazine to fight off any nausea. At least until I go to full time off and can afford to be wiped out for a day if I have to resort to the Compazine again.
I'd whined earlier what Day Fifty-Nine or Sixty would be like if Day One was this bad. However, I have two good legs and a faithful spouse on my path; two things I've learned two others whom I used to be close to no longer have in their lives. So I need to remind myself that this -is- my path and that it has been fortunate to not have been dragged on far longer than need be.