The Day Two Post-Chemo Run Down in Decreasing Order of Wordiness

1. As I mentioned in my post about my new t-shirt idea, I woke up wrecked this morning. It was all I could do to get out of bed. I probably wouldn't have bothered if not for the fact that today was cyborg day. I had to go to the diabetes care center to get the little sensor that will continually measure my blood sugar attached to me. It was actually a lot like getting the chest port accessed, except that they want intercellular fluid rather than blood. But the needle was just as big -- though temporary (thank god). The only frustrating thing about the process was when I mentioned that I'd had my infusion yesterday, the conversation eventually worked its way to it being suggested that I should've scheduled this for a time further from my infusion since that process includes steroids that do weird things to my blood sugars. I didn't have the energy to explain to the guy that I'd scheduled the appointment for last week, but the clinic called while I was in Budapest to move it. 

2. Those of you who wear your hair very short will likely recognize the experience of going to the barbershop and then spending the rest of the day scratching your neck and shoulders as all the little hairs that got caught in your shirt start poking at you. I'm now at the point where it's like that constantly for me as all my little 1/8" hairs are jumping out of my head and landing on my neck and shoulders. At least there's only so much longer this can last.

3. Although I still haven't reached the point of actually puking (again, thank god), the irinotecan is causing way more vague feelings of nausea than the prior infusions did. Nothing like sitting at your desk at work, feeling your mouth fill with saliva, and having to quickly figure out what you can do to keep whatever's in your stomach in your stomach.

4. It's never really been a problem for me to swallow pills. It is now. I'm having an increasingly hard time choking down the handfulls of pills I'm taking morning and night.

5. (Un?)Happily, Helena Keller was adopted. So it's back to the drawing board on the search for feline companionship.

6. Have I mentioned recently how much I hate chemo infusions?