The first week of chemotherapy involved lots of infusion pumps. It was inconvenient, but not much else. I thought, “If that’s all the worse it is, this will be easy.” That week was followed by two weeks without pumps, a probable cake walk. Maybe not so much.
A Slow Start
The second week started out fine. As warned, I experienced a dry mouth and there were a few small sores. I used the recommended, non-alcohol mouthwash and chewed plenty of gum. No problems so far.
By Thursday, things became a little more noticeable. Late that night, pain developed in my hips, feeling like I bumped something really hard. Friday morning, the pain had spread through my thighs.
Figuring that most things are helped by movement, I went for a walk. By the time I got home, the pain had spread to the lower back as well. Walking devolved into a waddling and it hurt the whole time.
Looking up my medicines, I discovered that the pain was a side effect of one of them. The drug that is supposed to increase my white blood cell production does so by stimulating the bone marrow. It’s actually that bone marrow that hurts; the rest is just the brain sharing the love.
By midnight Friday, the pain nearly had me in tears.
A Fortunate Other Problem
Fortunately, about a quarter till ten on Friday night, I measured a fever of 101.8 degrees. Since the chemo weakens my immune system, I’m supposed to seek medical attention for any fever. I found myself in the Emergency Room for the second weekend in a row.
The fever subsided by early Saturday morning. In the meantime, the medical people decided that my leg pain should be treated as well; they filled me with morphine. In general, I hate taking pain medications, but this was an exception. Not only did the leg pain go away, but I was able to sleep very, very well.
The rounds of antibiotic IVs lasted through Sunday. They’ve also put me on an antifungal just to be on the safe side. I picked up the oral antibiotics on the way home.
Week Three
After the hospital, the leg pain slowly minimized. According to the drug’s website, the pain shouldn’t last very long. It’s just the short time when it feels like your thigh bones are trying to splinter themselves from internal pressure.
In fact, most of the discomforts were gone the third week. That doesn’t mean the side effects had ended.
By the middle of the week, I noticed a bit of hair on my bathroom sink. Not too unusual in itself, but the quantity seemed higher.
Then, while making up my bed, I noticed more hair on my pillow. Again, the quantity was the odd part.
Obviously, hair loss is a well known side effect of chemotherapy. My hair was thin to begin with, so it was no big deal, just something to note.
On the drive to work, though, the unexpected happened. There was a sensation in my mustache that suggested that something was in it that shouldn’t be. I reached up with my thumb and forefinger to remove the offending thing. What came back was a large quantity of whiskers.
Curious, I tugged on another part of the mustache. More whiskers came loose. Repeating the process removed quite a bit. I started to worry that I would be left with nothing but stray little clumps of mustache left.
Fortunately, the whiskers remaining area distributed evenly, for now. However, it seems that the hairs that fell out were the thicker, darker ones, leaving behind only the white and blond whiskers. Combined with the thinning, it makes for a very weak, barely noticeable mustache.
For reference, I grew my mustache in my late teens. They made me shave it for Basic Training at Fort Bliss. Due to my bad heart, I was kicked out of the Army during boot camp. I regrew my mustache immediately upon leaving El Paso and have had it ever since. That is a long time.
The next morning, the shower filled with water while I was getting ready for work. Cleaning the drain removed enough hair to build an army of woodland creatures. As of now, my head sports the traditional chemotherapy hair style.
No Further Emergencies
The weekend required no trips to the Emergency Room. An overall tiredness filled me for most of the time, but I like naps. With no problems, I’ve been able to start with my second round of therapy.
Each round will follow the previous pattern: one week on the pumps, and two weeks of recovering from side effects of the pumps. There are only six of these cycles, so I am one-sixth done and starting on the second. It’s a bit of a bother, but fully manageable, probably.