I feel like myself for the first time in over a week.
I can eat without my stomach going into fits of revulsion.
Or.. having it come out of my body immediately.
TA DA!
I know it's gross so if you don't care to read such bodily filth, skip forward to the happy face.
5 1/2 days of the worst cramping-get-drunk-in-Mexico City-wake-up-in-a-stagnant-pool-of-water-and-get-horrific-parasites diarrhea. It took everything out of me, literally. So weak... my stomach and back muscles got sore. Mmkay?
The culprit? METFORMIN.
After the steroids made my sugar freak the eff out, Dr. Bob (whom I adore) called in a prescription for Metformin. I've never taken this drug. The next day, the big D started and basically stood guard over my entire digestive system for a week. He also gave me another drug to take (while monitoring my sugar) in case the Metformin wasn't working.
After reading that 52.3% of people suffer from diarrhea on Metformin, Dr. Melissa decided to stop taking it and within 48 hours, normalcy. I mean, really? That stuff nearly killed me. All this money for chemo and a $20 bottle of Metformin was winning. I don't know if I'd react to it that badly if I did not have these chemicals in my system. The other sugar medication is keeping my levels the same.
ANYWAY
(INSERT SMILEY FACE)
I feel pretty amazing. Nearly better than normal. Perhaps because my body is so happy to be normal again? Whatever. I do have these hot flashes that leave me sweating. UNCOOL. Sweat is not a friend of the Melissa.
An incredibly dark week though. It wasn't pretty and I hope with everything in me that my next sessions don't go as bad. Now we'll know to watch my sugar and I will gladly flush my bottle of Metformin down the toilet screaming "HA! HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?".
Now my hair loss looms. It stresses me out to no end. I just can't imagine it. I've always had dreams where something had happened and my hair was wayyyy too short or shaved and I'd wake up in a pool of sweat.
Most people dream about being chased by Werewolves or being stabbed.. me? Hair loss.
Jill has been my dork in shining armor. She's funny when she needs to be and waits on me hand and foot. She's dealing with the imminent loss of her grandfather who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer (and has lived an amazing life of 96 years). He's on Morphine in a Hospice situation in Missouri. She wanted to see him this past weekend but I was too sick. She said she's square with her grandfather who is an incredible human being... but it killed me inside to know she didn't see him this weekend.
It was hard for me to admit that I needed someone to take care of me, that I needed her.
A fear I've always had about sickness (as do many) is knowing you must rely on others. In my family, it's "do it yourself or it doesn't get done" type of thing. Most of us are really independent creatures. We get sick, we lay in our corner and lick our wounds.. barking at those who get too close.
There was a beautiful moment when I was resting and really miserable. I had my eyes closed and suddenly I saw this amazing open room, very tall and airy with a wall of window-paned glass and the doors were open to a balcony. I could see the city beyond and it was that kind of light where you know it's very humid and sort of hot.. so there's a fog but it's really a heat haze? It looked set in Vienna or something like that. I saw a sitting figure with bilious folds of fabric around her, black and white lace.. a weird bonnet with lace around it. Lots of stone and marble. It seemed clear yet hazy. Came blasting out of nowhere.
It made me think of pianos although I didn't see or hear one.
I think maybe I should take up the Pie-anna!
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