More blue pills, round one/phase two completed and can you speak up, please?

And here we are ...the end of the summer with Labour Day already behind us. When the hell did that happen? It's been a while since I posted, I know. Been dealing with some ups and downs. After all, every day is an adventure! Seems like only yesterday that I started skipping down my own Yellow-Brick-Nuke-Her-Head-Wicked-Witch-And-Make-Her-Take-Toxic-Blue-Pills-Road. The

only thing missing on my fun little jaunt was my own pair of sparkly ruby red slippers -- although I do own a pair of faaabulous red stilettos. And while I am indeed grateful that the 49-day fiesta is behind me, the regime did put many things in perspective for me, not to mention the most important reason for enduring the grueling process in the first place -- to begin to hold Il Tumore at bay. So far, so good -- YEAH! I feel like Diana Nyad. Find a way and keep going.

I must say that the two weeks after the treatments ended were akin to feeling reeeeally hung over after an epic all-weekend party in university (or college for my American friends). With a couple of key exceptions. Food? Blecccch - no thank you. Sleep? Yes please and kindly don't wake me for two weeks. Most disconcerting of all, though, is having found myself with such epic intellectual dorkiness that simple functions like adding two plus two (mild exaggeration for dramatic effect) were simply too mentally taxing. To find myself feeling less

than my-usual-relatively-intelligent-self was a humbling experience to say the least, so needless to say, when the mental smog started to lift and I started regaining some of my energy and little things like the smell of bacon didn't want to make me hurl (a tragic consequence of the treatments), certain food groups stopped tasting like the inside of an old rusty can AND I could add three plus three (exaggerated dramatic effect re-visited) I started proclaiming Hallelujah! from the rooftops. YEAH! I never thought something as simple as appreciating the smell of cured meat from the back/side/belly of a pig - or even having taken it for granted - would be worth celebrating. More importantly, though, having taken for granted simple things like being able to think clearly, concentrate, read for longer than five minutes, hold an intelligent conversation -- to name just a few -- underscored how much I have taken for granted all these years. I have always lived in my head, so to speak, so to find myself attacked where I lived was quite a setback and a blow for me. And so, I will continue to put things into their proper perspective, celebrate the small stuff, not worry about s**t that doesn't matter and not take s**t for granted.

So, a couple of updates. Saw my radiation oncologist last week for my follow-up appointment and told her about some itchy, painful spots on my back that had been bothering me for a couple of days prior to the visit. Nothing related to my head nuking, but thought I would mention it to her nonetheless. Well, lo and behold, the itchy/painful bits turned out to be shingles. Yup. Freakin' shingles. WTF, right? Thankfully, it was a mild case. Glass half full. Glass half full. It could have been worse. Glass half full. Because of my weakened immune system and the stress to my body from the Merda/S**t/Merde it has been through plus the fact that I had the chickenpox as a child, I was susceptible to shingles. Niiiiiiiiiice. So guess what? Yup. More giant blue pills. Antibiotics, 1 gram each, three times a day and one inch long. The pharmaceutical companies are a swarm of sadists. That, and they seem to be obsessed with the color blue. On sheer principle, I am boycotting the color blue from my wardrobe from now on (not that I own that much blue clothing in the first place -- blue just isn't my color but this just reinforces it, damn it!) Moral of the story is that the bottle of said Ginormous-Blue-Not-Red-My-Favorite-Color-For-Clothes-Not-Pills is empty and I am feeling better, thankfully. Yee-freaking-HAW.

Second update is that when hubby and I met with The-Doctor-Formerly-Known-As-Ferragamo-Now-Known-As-Pliner to review the MRI, he stated that the MRI revealed fluid build-up in the mastoid process, the area right behind the ears. Evidently, this fluid accumulation is quite common after Melon-Zapping. The long and short of it is that I have some hearing issues in my left ear; specifically, it's blocked and I can't hear very well. I feel like I need an ear horn: "Eh? What did you say? What? Can you speak up please?" Poor hubby. Mentioned it to Doc Radiation when I saw her as it was just starting to come on last week and yadda yadda yadda, I am now taking Sudafed. Yeah, well, that's not working either. Doc Radiation had advised me that if the Sudafed didn't work, she would put me on a round of steroids. Hmmm. My first reaction was NO! Oops, I meant, NO thank you! (Where are my manners?) Then again, it's only a 6-day run so that may be necessary. In any event, hubby and I are taking a fun little trip to see my family doc tomorrow. What the hell. See what she says. Just keeping my fingers crossed that I won't need to see an ear/nose/throat specialist. Oi. Just what I need. Another specialist. In the meantime, it's another one of those things I've taken for granted. Waaaaaa. I miss being able to hear well! Fingers crossed this resolves itself and soon.

But the most important update is that I have completed the first round of the chemo maintenance -- double the dose for five days -- three weeks off and then lather, rinse and repeat for another five months. So far, so good. Woo hoo and let's hope it continues to keep The Tumaaaaaaaaa at bay or shrinks the Mo-Fo. Started feeling tired Day 3, with appetite fading by Day 4 and appetite completely disappearing by Day 5. I slept for most of the three days afterwards and then felt better energy-wise on the fourth day. YEAH! Appetite is still slow in coming back and certain foods still smell funky to me (dang), but I'm pleased that my energy levels seem to be recovering. They are not at 100%; then again, I haven't felt at 100% since before I got sick. I do feel OK though, save for the ear thing, so I am pleased about that. Having said that, I am scheduled to go back to work on September 30, and there is a little part of me that is a wee bit anxious, as you might imagine. Transitioning back to the real world, keeping my energy levels up, being around lots of people after having lived in virtual seclusion for almost four months, questions from folks....

And then, there's a larger part of me that says: you are a strong woman and give yourself credit for that. You have just undergone some grueling treatments and kept positive throughout, save for the occasional breakdown which is completely normal and understandable after all. You are going through a life-changing experience. And ... you are blessed with an amazing husband who has been there for you through thick and thin as well as phenomenal family and friends and some special folks at work who all love and support you. It's all about keeping things in perspective -- who and what matters. It will all be fine. :-) One day at a time. On a lighter note, a fun (!!) fact is that my hair is still MIA so I have two choices: a) My wicked self tells me to walk into Corporate America au naturel. Yes, I'm talking with my naked (GASP!) head fully exposed. There is a part of me that wants to do it. Just because. Then as a very wise gal recently reminded me (thanks TL!), I will have to answer questions. Hmmm. Need to think that one through. b) My sensible self tells me I should shop for wigs, caps, scarves and the like and cover up. Et voilà -- some super sexy (*snort*) shots of Yours Truly in a couple of Uber stylish wigs (*guffaw*). These chortles and giggles are courtesy of my dear pal R., who I can always thank for endless amusement and smiles. Bisous, ma chèrie! In the meantime, the quest for my lost locks continues. That, and a decent wig.

Before I sign off, I want to thank TP for a delightful afternoon out a couple of weeks ago. It was absolutely wonderful to have lunch with you and profound thanks for your company and generosity of spirit. Thank you as well to KB for a lovely outing, for your never-ending enthusiasm and sunny outlook and for the extraordinarily beautiful and thoughtful gift. And deepest and heartfelt thanks to all of you who have continued to keep in touch. Via this blog, email, text, phone calls, cards. Please know that your support, your thoughts and prayers, your well-wishes and your love are so unbelievably appreciated and have helped both hubby and me through this critical first phase more than you might imagine. And after all, isn't that what life is all about? Family. Friends. Love. Health. At the end of the day, too many things and boatloads of stuff simply don't matter. People do. Thank you all and sending love and bone-crushing hugs your way. And extra-special thoughts and prayers to Papa-san and Mama-san.

À bientôt, chers famille et amis. Nous vous aimons.

Cancerella, Budereaux et Les Deux Chats
xoxoxoxo