Two Weeks of the life of a Stage Four Rectal Cancer Patient in Chemotherapy Treatment--Day Three and Day Four

Day 3

I never shower while Frodo is connected to me, so I probably smell something horrid today after my night sweats and hot flashes from chemo and being perimenopausal, but it doesn't really matter because the kids and Hubby are gone most of the day. The kids have a lot of out-of-the-home activities on Tuesdays and I have a website a friend of mine set up for local people to help out with the kids activities and with me if I need it. The kids are usually covered for their stuff more than I am for mine, but I don't mind because I also have help that is just a call away if necessary.

I spend most of my day in the schoolroom on these days. Not necessarily on purpose--more because standing and walking require me to hold onto walls and anything that will help keep me balanced. My everything is messed up the day after chemo. Steroids help my brain stay focused enough to still school the kids and get my classwork done, but it does nothing for my balance.

The hardest thing on chemo week Tuesday and Thursday is not feeling well enough to teach my POUND class.

My diet today consists of antacids and anything that I don't end up gagging on--which isn't much.

Day 4

*For those not wanting too much information, you may want to stop reading now.*

Diarrhea day.

I always have to be careful not to leak on these days, and my body seems to be aware of that now that I've had Bilbo for seven months. I'll wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes, knowing I need to do something about Bilbo. I've only had one major leak at night, which I think is pretty good.

I have to admit, however, diarrhea with a stoma is easier than without if you change the pouch in time. I don't have to run to the bathroom nearly as much as Hubby when he has it.

Flat, empty pouch.

Maybe a half hour later on these days--much harder to "hide."

Frodo annoyingly alarms at me  at horrible out-of-tune pitches while I'm making my morning omelet--letting me know it's time to go back to oncology and take him off. I love taking Frodo off. It's almost like the feeling of removing a bra after a long day... except it's more like removing a leash with the IV.

I got a disco-esque bandaid on my port after Frodo's removal today. I usually only get the ugly boring brown ones, so this brings a smile to my face.

It's the little things.

I never feel well after Frodo is off. That's really when the nausea hits me. I have to remind myself to drink lots and often, so I keep my water bottle close and drop some lemon juice inside to get rid of the mineral or metallic taste that comes with plain water.

I usually take a long naps on these Wednesdays, but not today because I don't want to go down the stairs after coming up to do school with the kids and my class. Instead, I choose to fill in (as much as I can) my Living Well planner. I should have napped, though, because who is to say I'll get to have my life go back to "normal" when this chemo stuff ends? I hope it does, so I act as if it will.

Besides, what's white-out for, anyway, if life throws me more curve-balls?