Tomorrow should be my last chemo infusion!

Instead of waiting for chemo to knock me down, I decided to draft a quick post tonight instead.

Because tomorrow should be my last chemo infusion! Granted, there are no promises – every time I go in for treatment, they take blood and there’s always a chance that I’ll be told I have to reschedule to give myself more time to recover. If that happens, I will be devastated, because even though I constantly remind myself that there are no promises – I absolutely have my heart set on tomorrow being the last one. I even have gifts for the team of caregivers who make this whole process bearable. It’d be very awkward to take them back. . . (just kidding, I promise to leave them.)

So tonight, I thought I’d blog some Frequently Asked Questions. Here they are, in no particular order:

1. What comes next?

Radiation therapy. I get a few weeks off to recover a bit, and then I’m going to have daily radiation therapy for 4-6 weeks. Yup, daily. But radiation therapy does not come with nausea or nerve pain, so bring it on.

2. How are the kids?

I get asked this a lot. And the truth is that this whole cancer thing has definitely started to take its toll, especially on my younger child. I’m tired far too much of the time, and it’s changed our time together more than I’d like. Luckily, her dad/stepmom and her best friend’s family bring lots of energy, and everyone from her teachers to her child care providers has been very supportive.

Still. We miss being normal together.

My son is much more independent, because he’s a LICENSED DRIVER now. I think I may have already blogged that, but it still slays me that my little baby is taller than me and has a car. Anyway, the cancer situation impacts him, too, and he’s been a trooper about things like playing with his sister when I’m worn out.

I have great kids.

3. Did your eyelashes fall out?

Why, yes, they mostly did. And you might be wondering why people have to ask this to my face – my glasses hide this new feature pretty well, and I have one rogue eyelash on the bottom of each eye trying to hold down the fort by stubbornly hanging on. They mostly just call attention to the fact that they are alone, but they think they are helping. And I do miss my eyelashes, as everything seems to get into my eyes these days, but I miss my nose hairs more.

4. What’s with the unicorns?

I don’t think people who read this blog actually need me to answer this question, but I do get asked it at the office by people who don’t read the blog. And it’s maybe a little harder to explain than I thought. “Well, I decided to theme my cancer around unicorns,” just makes them look at me like I’m crazy. Which is fine. Clearly, I am aspiring to being that crazy old lady with a china cabinet filled with unicorns.

Meanwhile, I have a side table completely covered in unicorn items (and a pig-icorn, but he doesn’t know he’s a pig, so don’t tell him), and it makes me happy to look at it and feel all the good thoughts and unicorn magic that are attached.

5. Do you need anything?

I don’t think so, but it’s a great comfort to know that if I do need help, I will get it. It is very likely that I will need help again near the end of radiation therapy, as I’m told the fatigue will become overwhelming, and I won’t be able to work or do much. Not sure exactly when that will be yet, though.

That’s it for tonight, I need to work myself into a nice anxiety-riddled state now, because that’s what I do the night before treatments.

Thanks again for all your support – it means the world to me.

Kate