You guys are probably all wondering how chemo went this last week. Well, Taxol didn’t kill me. The steroids I had to take the night before didn’t even keep me awake. However, the Benadryl they put in my drip made me feel like I wanted to climb the walls! It wasn’t really fun, and Hubster kept asking me why I was gripping his arm, but I didn’t even realize I was. I was just feeling very twitchy—like some crazy Tourette’s Syndrome person, except without the shouting random obscenities part. (Although, maybe I’d have felt better if I had.) Chemo nurse Karen gave me some Ativan, which eventually knocked me out, so I was almost dozing by the time I was done.
I’ve had some bone pain from the Taxol–you don’t realize how many little bones are in your feet until they’re all screaming “Ow!” That was mostly over by Sunday. Today I’m feeling good.
Mostly I’m just happy to be feeling like my normal self—not that I’m ever a shining example of normalcy, but my brand of normal works for me. I can even TASTE! Glory! Tasting makes me feel like cooking, which makes me feel like myself, rather than the body-snatched version of me that’s been living here for a few weeks. I’m sure Hubster & Mini Me are enjoying the fact that the alien that was residing here has apparently hopped a mothership for home. While they’d probably be too nice to say so, I suspect that they might have grown tired of my culinary efforts consisting of combining random leftovers from the last week’s worth of meals folks’ have brought to us. A typical night might go like this:
Hubster: “What’s for supper?”
Me: “There’s some leftover taco meat, part of a broccoli casserole, and some birthday cake. You can make a sandwich out of it if you want.”
Note to Barb: I’ve got a bone to pick with you. After reviewing notes with Brenda, it has come to my attention that you’ve been holding out on me. Indeed, it seems that Brenda was the recipient of a PIE, and I was not. Dutch Apple, in fact. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and assume that this was simply an oversight, because everyone knows that pie is my favorite food in the entire world. I even like it better than a nacho cheese birthday cake, or taco meat/broccoli/birthday cake sandwich. Besides, birthday cake was passing fad brought on by chemo-induced taste bud trauma. Now that the ol’ buds are on the mend, I’m enjoying my old favorites…like PIE…or at least I would be enjoying pie if you’d brought me one…like you did Brenda.