Chemo 8.0

I hate getting chemo! That's it, I said it - Let that cat out of the bag. Getting chemo sucks. Mathilde went with me, as she always does, and I was late as I usually aim. For some strange reason I can't seem to get myself to the hospital on time on chemo day. This morning I had to trim my hair, and then all the hairs all over meant I had to take a shower. While drying off, I noticed my fingernails needed clipping, and then I realized I've neglected my toenails since the morning of the last chemo. And my ears! Eventually I ran out of things to procrastinate with and had to accept the inevitable.

Getting chemo started fine, but by the end I was feeling pretty crappy and nauseous, the kind of nauseous where you move really, really slow because you are afraid anything else will trigger something you don't want. 

One thing about getting chemo, for me at least, is that once I sit in the chair and they start pumping the poison in, I become completely obsessed with the desire to have it over with. I just want to get out of that chair and get home as soon as possible. So, on the positive side, it went smooth and quick, and we were heading home about 1:45 (started at 10:15). 

The ride home was okay until I gave into the urge to cough, which jolted my stomach enough to set me searching the glove compartment for something to puke in. I spent the rest of the ride home holding a plastic bag in my lap, fighting back the urge to puke and trying to find non-nauseating things to thing about (for example shapes and numbers are pretty safe).

By the time we got home, the worst of it was over (and I didn't puke. woohoo!). I drank a glass of coke and Mathilde made me something to eat. Both the coke and food helped quite a bit. Then I took a happy pill and slept for the next 3 1/2 hours. The nap was very nice, but I did awake wet with sweat (stupid friggin' night sweats). I feel pretty good now.

So now, I am either certainly half way, and possible 2/3 of the way. Both good, one better.