Side Effects

The realization that side effects, seemingly simple consequences, are actually a big freaking deal

Happy New Year! Before we begin this blog post officially, let me first share some good news. When I last left you, I was scheduled to have a biopsy of the left breast to ensure that nothing was happening on that side. Fortunately, on Friday, January 5th, MD Anderson called to let me know that the biopsy of the left breast came back negative (benign)! After a particularly rough week with some not so nice side effects, it was the exact spot of sunshine I needed.

I wish that I could say that the official start to the new year was equally positive, but I'll take a delayed positive start than none at all! Now, in regards to side effects - this whole journey has given me the chance to reflect not only on the obvious consequences of chemo but also the "side effects" of this somewhat crazy, meandering, vagabond existence I've led thus far.

Chemo Side Effects

Right, so let me stop beating around the bush and speak to the side effects from chemo I've experienced so far. I promised to be honest, so if details aren't really your thing, then this section of the blog may not be for you. Reader be warned!

In terms of side effects, I was most concerned about what my reaction to the inevitable loss of my hair wold be. I distinctly recall volunteering at the Beauty/Barber Shop at MD Anderson as a teen volunteer and seeing patient after patient come through to have their heads shaved. And in instance after instance, patients broke down after seeing themselves shaved. So many family members who accompanied the patient in question indicated that it was one of the first or few times that they'd seen the patient breakdown, despite having receiving a cancer diagnosis.

Forgive my naive fourteen year old self, but I have to admit that I was always confused by statements to this effect. Why exactly would the shaving of their head be the trigger for so many patients to break down but not the news of cancer? At the time, I assumed that if I ever found myself in such circumstances, I would react very differently - being devastated by the news of cancer but stoic about the loss of my hair.

Obviously, I never assumed that I'd actually find myself in such circumstances, but it would appear that karma, as they say, is indeed a bitch. In the end, I didn't cry when my head was shaved, much as I expected to. This was in part due to my AMAZING hair stylist, Jenni, but more on that in a moment. It was also because as much as cancer and chemo can feel like a slow but inevitable eradication of self and identity, it was one of the moments in which I actually felt like I was in control. I was making the choice to get rid of my hair instead of waiting for it all to fall out.

I was also finally able to empathize with why the loss of hair could be so devastating. You see, thus far on this journey, I've simply been me but with cancer. A fact that you and I are aware of, but that not every Tom, Dick and Harry can ascertain. With a shaved head, however, I am my cancer to every passing person. They can look at me and know that I have cancer. And for someone who is fiercely independent and wanted to get through this as "normally" as possible, I personally dislike the feeling of being treated differently solely because of my status as a cancer patient. Ultimately, it's one more thing that I have no control over, so I've put it aside, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm already looking forward to the day when my hair starts to grow back.

So, how do I look without my hair? Here's a little photo montage of the head shaving process I went through. Jenni is the stylist I've been going to for several years now (yes, even while living in the Netherlands), not only because she's talented but also because she's got a heart of gold. She not only kept me talking and distracted through the process but also, very smartly, started from the back of my head and the sides which gave me the chance to acclimate to my appearance. If any of you are Houston based and want to check her out, please visit: http://www.emmanuelsalon.net/.

Briefly speaking, here are some of the other side effects I've been dealing with from the chemo so far (with unfortunately more to develop):

- Fatigue: Fridays and Saturdays after chemo, especially during weeks when I receive all three drugs, are a loss. I usually feel like a truck has hit me and I'm completely sapped of energy. I spend much of the day on the couch and simply allow myself time to recover.

- Skin rash and extreme dry skin - what you can't see in the pictures above, thanks to the power of makeup, is a skin rash that's on my face, scalp and elsewhere on my body. While the rash itself is mostly bearable, the dryness caused by the chemo is not. I itch every where, my skin is flaking off, I have dryness on my chin that makes it difficult to even open my mouth, and more. Unfortunately, I've tried every solution I can think of or those that have been recommended to me by my doctors, and there's really nothing that works to resolve the dryness. The medications prescribed to help deal with the rash only make the dryness worst, so for now, I'm a scaly flaky mess.

- Gastrointestinal issues - My whole digestive system is a mess, to put it simply. Food tastes completely different and/or unappetizing, I have bad acid reflux that appears to be impacting my vocal cords regardless of how mild I make my diet, I vacillate between diarrhea and constipation (there's no middle ground), and more. In fact, I ended up in the ER on 01/02/2018 due to severe constipation for which I needed professional help. For those that are medically inclined, I had a fecal impaction, and the implied joys of going through the process of getting deimpacted.

For now, these are the major side effects that I seem to have. I can feel the beginnings of dry mouth and potential sores developing, along with some other side effects. But I'll save those for a different post if, or when, they develop. While chemo isn't a pleasant experience and I've reached a point where I've started to count down the weeks well before the midpoint, I must say that, on a relative basis, I seem to be faring well. When I read about the side effects of other patients or hear from them personally, I am forced to count my blessings. I am by no means near the home stretch, but I could do worst than to hope to continue on in the same vein as I have been.

The Side Effects of Being a Vagabond

Calling myself a vagabond is a bit of a stretch, but I have led a rambling, meandering life that's taken me to all sorts of places. I've enjoyed having the freedom to wander and know that the siren call to explore has given me innumerable experiences that have shaped my worldview. Overtime, I've realized that being an introvert while being a wanderer is both a strength but also something that poses a challenge.

You see, I was never interested in popularity. In fact, I was a pretty awkward child (and am still sometimes a pretty awkward adult if we're honest). No matter where I went, I took my time settling in and making friends. My own slow pace sometimes frustrated me. Being introverted also meant that while I wandered, I wasn't always eager to "put myself out there" to meet new people. But I always seemed to eventually find my group of people, so I never really thought much about it. Until now.

It would appear that without any real thought or dedicated action on my part, I've gathered a global army of friends around me. Friends who check-in on me regularly, friends who send gifts upon gifts (I swear, the delivery men have never visited my parents' house in seven years as much as they have in the last few weeks), and friends who are planning and coordinating their visits to Houston without my involvement so I don't have to take on that planning responsibility.

It speaks volumes to the hearts of the people I'm fortunate to call friends that they're doing all of this. See, I'm actually pretty horrible about keeping in touch. It's not because I don't feel close to people or don't love them, but I simply get home and retreat from the world (yay being an introvert!). Despite my atrocious behavior, I seem to have repeatedly found friends who love me regardless of my not-keeping-in-touch ways.

And so it would appear that my wandering, slow to make friends approach has unwittingly created a side effect of its own in my life. A global army that gives me motivation and reminds me on a near daily basis that I'm loved and that there are so many people cheering me on. How can I not remain optimistic when I'm surrounded by so much positivity?

For those of you who have sent gifts and cards - know that the messages are something I cherish. In fact, I've started to build a "motivation wall" with the cards and messages I've received. On days when I'm feeling down or just need a little boost, I take a moment to reread the messages. While the gifts obviously make me smile, the messages are what give me joy and energy over and over again.

I've never doubted, even with a cancer diagnosis, that I'm a lucky person who's been blessed to live the life she's led so far. But the support I get from my friends has driven that point home in a manner that I will not easily forget. Perhaps now would be the moment for me to make a promise to be better at staying in contact?