Post Chemo TMI
I seem to have developed a resistance to Phenergan, the anti-emetic I take at home to combat nausea and vomiting. Even the big guns aren't working as well: I take two Zofran tablets at the hospital right before my chemo, but this time constant tidal waves of nausea washed over me throughout the entire five hour treatment. This is not a good trend.
The vomiting has stopped now but the pervasive background nausea hangs on. It doesn't help that my saliva has become thick and foamy and unbearably bitter. I'd instantaneously divulge state secrets if I were forced to swallow the nasty stuff. I'm shaky and weak: too weak to carry the garbage can out to the curb yesterday. My bones ache, my head hurts, my intestines have turned into the world's most insufferable drama queen. My urine is a festive yet foul bright orange. My chemo zapped brain is floating in a dull fog of greasy gray dishwater; I'm depressed, discouraged, and despondent. And on top of all that, the tyrannical never ending fatigue is grinding me down like a mortar and pestle without mercy.
And yet! I survived another brutal round of chemo.
Yeah, I have four more to go, but I can't even think about that right now. Please don't even remind me.