No, you can’t sir!

Last Friday's infusion went very well, and I was delighted to sit for the session with a former coworker and fun friend, Delena.  We had much to catch up on as we've not seen one another since well before Covid.  We laughed a lot, especially as this chemotherapy tends to make me a little loopy, so my conversation was studded with moments of complete brain erase, and I couldn't recall, at times, what we were talking about.  This is what people refer to when they speak of "chemo-brain", and it certainly has been plaguing me as of late.  Radiant Delena stayed for the entire session, and we parted ways having made plans to stay better in touch.  Cancer, though I want it gone and never to come back, has brought me so much indescribable joy through reconnections with old friends and forming new connections with other survivors and caregivers, for which I am ever grateful.  I'm not joking when I say I will miss Texas Oncology, and the people there, and one day I p...

The winter storm brought the gift of a week off from chemotherapy and I am now on alternating Friday infusions.  Last Friday was the first A/C round and as I write this post four days later, I am at its mercy.   The infusions are now shorter, but more powerful, on the attack of fast forming cells (the lining inside the stomach and mouth, cancer) and the side effects more pronounced and disruptive.  I no longer need to lug my cooler around for the hand and foot icings required by Taxol (to keep from experiencing neuropathy) so that's nice.  Now it's a mouth ice-bath while the 10-minute push of Cyclophosphamide is directly administered by the nurse into the port.  I'm glad they have the good ice: small, soft yet satisfyingly crunchable.   Today is Valentine's Day.  I'm overjoyed to be spending it with my Mom, who always went out for her children and her students on this day.  I was able to rise before she and surprise her with a nice break...