On weekends I get a little treatment reprieve: no radiation and no Xeloda (oral chemo). This weekend, by some miracle, on Saturday afternoon I was feeling fabulous. It was almost shocking. I felt better than I’ve felt for months. It didn’t make sense to me since I’d just finished my first full week of treatment, but I wasn’t arguing. I felt so good I completely reorganized my office/studio space – including moving the furniture around.
Naturally, I made the assumption that I’d feel good on Sunday, too. But it was not to be. The morning was fine, but by afternoon I started to notice I just didn’t feel that well. I tried to ignore it, thinking it might go away. A little while later I felt something like vague nausea creep in and I had to admit I had no energy. I was also starting to experience some “interesting” pain following each trip to the bathroom. I ended up in bed very early wondering if it was going to be a long night.
Monday mornings are also a bit of a challenge. I have to start taking the Xeloda again with breakfast. Usually, within a couple hours I feel mildly drugged – basically just lethargic, with no real desire to do anything, and a little foggy. Then, just about the time my energy really plummets, I need to get out the door for my 1:15 radiation treatment.
Voodoo Doll Therapy
Today, when I arrived for radiation, I asked the techs, “Which one of you wise guys got out your voodoo doll on Sunday and started sticking needles in my butt?” They each firmly denied it was them, but one of them apparently felt guilty enough to get me a prescription for some suppositories that are supposed to help “calm the area.”
Then, strangely enough, I started to feel better this evening – just about the time I was scheduled to pop another handful of Xeloda. So, at this point I simply cannot figure out any pattern to the ups and downs. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason as to when I’m going to feel fine or when I’m going to feel – uh – shitty. It seems all I can really do it just ride the wave. When I feel okay I try to take advantage of it and do something enjoyable. And, when I feel punk, I just have to surrender and let it run its course.
And wait for whoever’s in charge of the voodoo doll to decide to stop poking pins in me.
P.S. Thank you, Dad!
A Different Wholeness 