i haven't updated this thing for awhile. things were going ok but than not so ok. one of my tumor markers, the one my doctor is following the closest to make her decision re: more chemo, was stable and very close to being cured and normal. but than it went up, from 6.9 to 8.5, than a few days later went up more to 9.4,than back to 8.2. i would have to be below 6.4 for them to stop the chemo.
so why did the tumor marker go up? it's hard to say. maybe my body just got used to the first chemo regimen.

So I had my first round of the second cycle last week. It went ok but proceeded to wreck my body. When I returned home last Friday eve, things felt rough, but got worse at around 4:30am, when I got up to use the toilet. I proceeded to black out and my face hitting the bathtub broke my fall. I called to my mother, who luckily was here on a visit, and by the time she got to me I'd blacked out again. I proceeded to vomit about 10 times that day. I couldn't digest anything but minute amounts of Pedialite popsicles for the remainder of the weekend. not even water.

My mother returned to the east coast, and Carlo took me to get hydration and electrolytes on Monday. They said I am now anemic, which makes a lot of sense if you think of how strong the chemo is, and what it attacks. Anyway, I felt a lot better afterward, less like a complete shadow or ghost, but by Tuesday I felt crappy again. I went in yesterday hoping to get a shot for anemia, but instead they said I needed a blood transfusion asap. So I spent an unplanned evening in the hospital, enjoying the fortifying effect of someone else's blood in my veins (thank you whoever you are). They finally sent me home tonight a bit after 5.

It's hard not to feel a bit morose. This is my f'ing LIFE. My dad's been in town for a few days but he only saw the inside of my apartment and the hospital room. He leaves in the morning, on his birthday.

I told my doctors that we need to find a way to keep me healthier between treatments; that it shouldn't be such a crapshoot during the week or so after I have chemo. Also, losing consciousness is dangerous. The fact that I lost it twice within 5 minutes last week creeps me the fuck out.

On the up side, I have learned a helluva lot the past week regarding orthostatic hypotension ( low blood pressure, a side effect I enjoy), loss of blood volume, loss of electrolytes, etc. I feel like I am being outspoken about what I want, and taking the time to learn a bunch of health terminology that I wouldn't have otherwise had to.

But the old fears continue to nag. Why isn't this leaving my body? I am such a happy person, so in love with life, that I can't believe it (cancer) doesn't just magically leap from my body. I know it doesn't work that way, but still. And I grow weary of talking about this stuff, of having it define me. And we can get as positive and strong and activisty as we like to say that, oh no, this doesn't define me, this is just a bump in the road. But when people ask me how I am, what is going on in my life, THIS is the shit that's going on. And I hate that. I want to be in school. I want to be traveling and healthy and doing handstands and eating whatever I like and being in love and being stoked and learning tons of new skills. When chemo depletes the nutrients in blood, that leads to many aggravating things. I can barely walk a lot of days, barely remember what I did a few hours prior, and have incredibly messed up motory skills due to the attack on my nervous system. I knock stuff over all the time.

Don't get me wrong. Every day I am stoked to be alive. That part is great. I am stoked to have health insurance and awesome friends and a family that hasn't abandoned me and a great pool of resources. But I want cancer gone.

Ok I am done venting for now. At least my wig looks glamorous. Although some punkass made a mean crack to me yesterday regarding my ultra-pale-ness. I almost had to destroy him...