Update from the hinterlands of the chemofront (or something like that).

Whoa boy! This chemo has been both the easiest and hardest, and I shall wax poetic about both aspects now. To begin, some details of the infusion itself - The infusion happened in the brand new Cancer Institute building at Hershey, which is pretty nice. I think the word "infusion" needs to be stricken from the cancer lexicon, though, because I was hoping for a nice open room with lush plants and misters and tropical sounds and possibly a frozen fruity drink. Instead, I got some rooms with hospital chairs and nicer TVs. The actual infusion went fine except for the fact that, rather than run a Miami Social marathon, Bravo ran the last 5 minutes of an episode (I assume they ran the whole episode, but I only saw 5 minutes of it) before showing a boring movie. I'm going to write Bravo a nice letter with lots of exclamation points about how their schedule needs to show the trashiest TV when I'm infusing. Otherwise, the treatment was uneventful.

So, onto the easy aspects of this cycle - I've only had moderate fatigue and nausea. The nausea has been more nauseous (don't start with me, I have chemo brain), and less general stomach discomfort. This is actually good because I have meds to take care of the nausea (which, if you remember, also make me more social and attractive), whereas I have no meds for overall stomach ick. I also have had very little mouth pain and my nose seems to be doing okay so far. So, easy peasy on those fronts.

The harder aspects - As may be evident from this update, the chemo brain killed me this time. I'm starting to come out of it a little bit, but I've felt like a freaking vegetable. Actually, that's insulting to vegetables. I've basically been on communication lock-down, refusing to answer e-mails, the phone, or texts unless they are from someone who doesn't expect me to make sense in the first place (you know who you are). For some reason, the percocet has also been hitting me harder, which makes me even dumber. It's a one-two punch of stupid. I'm hoping that by the middle of next week, I'll be sharp again. Regardless, this is going to make for an interesting Fall semester!

And of course, the real news that everyone is waiting for - My tumor is down from 5.5 cm to 3 cm. The doctor didn't officially measure it (with her official measuring tape), but she did palpate and proclaim it around 3 cm. I will say that it used to feel like a D battery, and now it feels more like a gumball. If it continues to shrink at this rate, there may be no tumor left at surgery time, which is great prognosis-wise.

Soon to come - an update about what Week 3 of chemo is like and perhaps a soliloquy about my neupogen shots.