Taxol #4

Today was a crazy day, from the very start. Strong storms ripped through Nashville last night and this morning and the thunder and lightening kept Dave and the dog awake most of the night. I slept with wild dreams, but soundly. At one point I dreamt that I was taking a train trip that was a cancer patient perk of some kind, but that I had fallen asleep on the train and not awakened until I was in Austin, TX, meaning I'd missed Nashville (there is no passenger train service here in reality) and was going to miss my chemo infusion! In my dream I cried and asked if there was a train to Nashville leaving anytime soon, but was blown off by the porter who told me to read the difficult-to-decipher-quickly schedule myself as he did not have time to help (not the way I remember porters to behave in my experience), and as a result I watched the Nashville train roll away without me on it. Disturbing, frustrating, but not a scary dream. But man, I really don't need frustration in my sleep, I get plenty of it in day to day existence.

I told the oncologist today about my neuropathy, and she reduced my dose of Taxol by 20%. We are hoping that the trouble will not get worse so that I can complete my course of treatment. My oncologist told me that this usually doesn't occur until later in treatment, halfway or so, but another oncologist told me that it usually begins right away and was surprised that I had not experienced any after 3 treatments (it started the next day-power of suggestion?). Everything is such a gamble; I have to constantly weigh risk vs benefit, and to determine how far to go with treatment. I have a deep inner sense that I am now cancer free and will continue to live long and strong, but intellectually can't help returning to those statistics. I am acting from gut as well as from gathered information in my final decisions, and I know from living with Dave who constantly suffers from the neuropathy in his hands, and from my patients who suffer with it in their feet, with every step, that I am unwilling to knowingly poison my nerves for the sake of a maybe benefit that may be of no use to me at all. It's a guessing game. I'm moving my pieces on the board, and hoping to be canny enough to at least pull a draw.

So current symptoms: occasional mouth sores, mild neuropathy in hands and feet-particularly left hand, tender feet that blister easily, finger nails changing color with dark and/or yellowish areas, some muscle aches, mild weight gain, weird dreams, dry skin, bloody nasal discharge, homesickness - I think that's about it. Sounds like a litany, but it's really not that bad. If I can just keep that neuropathy under control, I can deal with all the rest of it. Fortunately, I believe my oncologist understands my concerns and is on my side, not pushing my decisions. I'm doing chemo because I want to do it, but at some point one says "I'm chemo'd" and that's it whether you make it through the entire protocol or not.

One of the wild occurrences this morning was in regard to my 24 hour urine collection the previous day; I went to get my big official medical plastic piss container out of the fridge to pour in the final deposit of liquid gold and discovered dampness all over the glass shelves. I freaked; figured I had urine all over the food and dishes there and began to frantically clean up when I discovered a broken bottle of Snapple had leaked it's contents everywhere. The pee was not the culprit. It still cost all of my get-ready time and I was nearly late for work when coupling that with the outrageous traffic, all of the students returning to college today and the results of the storms. The lab was backed up an hour-it was coo coo! Somehow, I managed to stay calm and now am enjoying this time to write and rest with my feet up. I was told it helps with the neuropathy. Ah... an excuse to lounge!