I love my new bedspread |
Anyway, here's a thing: when I am alone, every once in a while I realize I am checking in with my scalp. I found myself tonight, suddenly rubbing my hand around on my head, thinking, it definitely feels 'downier'. I am exploring the shape of my head. And my head likes it.
Anise and Monterey Pines (Buena Vista park) |
Sometimes the only word I can think of to describe how I feel is 'weird'. Am I too spaced out to come up with something more articulate? Or perhaps there just isn't a reference point...
According to Pacilitaxol.com, here's what Taxol, the main chemotherapy drug I'm taking, does: "In the cell division cycle, it works in the G2 (Gap 2) phase, by stabilizing microtubules and inhibiting their disassembly." Whoever wrote that was perhaps out of touch with the common man.
...There's also moxa, the burning mugwort (not to be confused with Hogwarts) stick I apply to various points, yoga ball exercises, dealing with the tightness in my hips and the hunchedness of my shoulders, keeping my feet warm, walking at least an hour a day. Support groups, medical appointment juggling, acupuncture, pilates, feldenkrais, the yoga I'm not doing. There's also keeping track of all the pills and supplies, keeping them stocked. And things to wear on my head: wigs, wig caps, scarves, scarf-tying techniques...
Anyway. My pill and potion regimen is most intensive the first couple of days after chemo. I am both tired and not-tired at the same time. Lethargy married to mania. Lethargy/fatigue mostly stays on the inside, mania comes out. The routine changes after 4 days, 10 days, and 15 days. I have it all written up on a complicated spreadsheet. I wish I could upload it here but don't think blogger has that functionality.
I try to remember write down symptoms as they come, so I can have something to report to the doctor in two and a half weeks.
A log in Buena Vista Park |
No comments:
Post a Comment