My last Taxol treatment was last Wednesday at Duke. (Yes, that's right, the day before Thanksgiving. And my last one will be two days before Christmas. Cancer is really inconsiderate when it comes to the holidays.) I flew in to the Raleigh airport, and Jenn picked me up and took me to Duke -- it was her lucky day to be my cancer/chemo caregiver! Loaded up with pillows, fashion mags, jackets, and a cooler full of snacks, we settled in for the day -- and I do mean THE DAY. We were there for nine hours! We went through the whole sign-in/shout name/bloodwork/sit down/sign in/shout name/vitals/sit down/shout name rigmarole, and finally got called back to the exam room, where I donned the requisite hideous gown and sat down to wait some more. (Now, these gowns could easily have covered me, Jenn, and Dr. Blackwell together, and they have these horrible gaping sleeve-holes that you can neither keep closed or push out of the way. Plus they're about six feet long. However, when I commented to the MRI tech as I dragged my gown down the hallway that they should really invest in some size Smalls, he said "Girl, those things look like mini-skirts on some people.") (See sexy gown shot below.)
Finally the Doc showed up, and the healing commenced. She said my bloodwork looked good (yay) and was glad to hear that I had had a pretty easy time with the recovery last time around. We chatted for a few, and then she sent me off to chemo. It was only after she left and I was starting to get dressed that I realized she hadn't examined me. I sat there for an hour in that huge drafty itchy scratch gown and no one examined me! Next time I am going to refuse to put it on unless someone promises to feel me up.
So, we grabbed our camping gear and headed up to the chemo ward, where we waited another hour before being called back. This time, I scored a bed, which was great, since both Jenn and I were pooped. I had had a load-in the day before, and then gotten up at 5am to fly to Raleigh. Thus, when the nurse injected the Benadryl, I was unconscious in about 10 seconds. I managed to mumble my name and date of birth before slipping off to sleep for 3 hours, leaving poor Jenn to fend for herself in the chemo factory. (See snoozing Cam shot below.) All went smoothly, and we finally escaped around 8pm that night.
The recovery this time has been a little more annoying than last time. I've had pretty consistent heartburn -- nothing awful, but irritating and hard to get rid of. (Apparently heartburn is going to be my constant companion throughout this ordeal.) I also had a few super-achy days (as my bones struggled to produce enough white blood cells to keep me healthy), and took a lot of hot baths and a lot of naps. My lower legs have been cramping and my feet have been sore (and no, I haven't been wearing my stilettos). However, the achiness has pretty much disappeared by now (a little over a week out), and the heartburn continues to improve. And, best of all: I STILL HAVE EYELASHES! I continue to thwart the expectations of medical professionals everywhere.
So, the verdict for Round Six: not so bad, as chemos go.