Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Good Night Moon

They're decreasing the steroids finally and the big round moon face is slipping away. The dose has gone down twice since I last wrote. I woke up one morning and I could see my ears. The decrease in my facial swelling is the most welcome effect so far though.

I can breathe.

The pressure from the swelling due to the steroid face had collapsed my nasal passages so much I had been wearing Breath Right strips during the day there for a while. They worked rather well and were hardly noticeable - Safeway brand are clear and lasted at least two days. You know, they might keep folks off some of that oxygen if they could just get what the health care pros call "room air" in their nostrils! It was the worst at night when gravity took everything lateral. It would take me a while to position so I could slide my cheeks to open up.

I'm beginning to look a bit more like me around the eyes and mouth, and my facial muscles aren't so rock hard. I hope I don't get facial stretch marks. My belly already looks like a postpartum nightmare. Still, being able to fit into more than five dresses is very attractive to me. I had swelled up so much the wardrobe was severely limited. Or hadn't y'all noticed?
And I've got all new lingerie to celebrate the return of my(ahem) normal womanly curves. Woo Hoo!

I know, TMI.

My hands are waaaaay better too. Knitting it drastically improved and I've only had two episodes of finger cramping - one while eating. You have no idea how happy this makes me. I'm not fully believing in a full cure yet. There could be another reason for the wonky fingers. Have I turned into a pessimist?

Today marks the fifth night of my oral March chemo so the second month is done. This is just too easy. The dose has been almost quadrupled but it had no real effect on me. Well almost. The first night back in February I woke up once and after about two minutes I felt a bit "sick". Not really nauseous, but like I had the flu. Then I fell asleep again right away. I haven't had that since. I can barely walk to my own bathroom and standing still is a nightmare but as long as I'm sitting down I feel great. I have the love and support of my husband, a steady income, the best doctors in the world, an amazing insurance coverage so I'm not constantly on the phone like so many in cancer treatment, and I go for one blood test a week. I have a friend on IV chemo
::waving to John:: whose body effects have made him soooo sick. And he has an invasive test every week it seems. And he's looking at more surgery. And he has had crap at work and with his insurance company while we're at it.

Talk about feeling guilty.

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