Dear God,
I can take the hair loss. Throughout this process I have been able to experience some really awesome hairstyles that I woud not have intentionally tried. Even now, I am dealing well with rocking the alien freak look.
I can deal with the nausea. I have pills for that, and I find that whining to my husband may not make it go away, however, making him miserable brings me a little pleasure.
I got through the mouth sores. Sure, it hurt to eat, but I managed to inhale an entire calzone, whose melty creamy loveliness soothed my mouth and caused me to gain 8 pounds.
Oh yeah. I can take the steroids. I have posted about the pleasures. Cooking and home renovation marathons. Inappropriate happiness.
I really don't mind the chemo brain, except for when I can't figure out how to get home. But I eventually make it home.
BUT, no one warned me about a little known side effect: VICARIOUS CEMO INDUCED ALOPECIA BASED VOMITING! This is when you go in your daughter's room at 3 a.m. to comfort her, and just as she is falling back asleep, she chokes on your HAIR that fell out due to chemo and blows chunks exorcist style.
BOO!
Love,
Angela
No comments:
Post a Comment