Over the past couple of days I have been coughing more and experiencing some mild chest pain. My thoughts immediately gravitate toward, “Is chemo working?” This may seem silly given my hair loss and other concrete reactions but when they describe a cancer as “aggressive” could it be working faster than the chemo? I decided to call Liz to tap her knowledge bank. As always she is positive and full of info. It could be three things: slight pain from the chemo working, pain caused by anxiety about whether chemo is working or maybe a viral infection or more bronchitis brought on by reduced immunities. I should confess that I have rarely run to the medicine cabinet to resolve my health issues. I’d rather sleep it off and complain to my family. So this new phase in my life, “better living through chemistry”, is a change I have yet to wear comfortably.
Liz called in a script for Ativan. I decide to add yet another pill to the regiment but to be safe, I will start dosing at night. Saturday morning I wake refreshed and look at the clock, 8:30am; almost an adult record. I’m cursed with a Moore gene that makes me feel sluggish if I’m not up by 7am regardless of the time I climb into bed.
No pain. As the day rolls on, I run some errands with Summer and by 2pm I am asleep on the couch. The pain is creeping back but Ativan seems to help me sleep.
I venture online Saturday evening looking for anecdotal “chest pain” comments from other NHLers and can’t find anything positive. This stinks. More pre-, post- and during chemo pain stories that bring me crashing down. Although his goes back to one of my early blog comments that everything comes with a price, I’m done with anecdotes until I’m finished with Lymphemo. Two other thoughts to consider: my lymph nodes are now overtaxed with more dead cells than they ever would have imagined and they are letting me know their pain. Two, the necrotic tissue in the center of the lymph nodes could calcify so whenever I jump rope, I sound like a marble bag. I know, i know…just don’t jump rope.