I'm home. I wish I could say that I am thrilled to be home and feeling so well after five days of being pumped full of chemotherapy. But alas, I cannot.
I feel like poo. Actually, intermittently like poo. There are periods where I feel sort of okay. Then I feel like poo. Tired, woozy mostly. There are times when simply sitting taxes me. I've got lingering indigestion. My sinuses are flaring up and causing post-nasal drip. My muscles ache, to the touch even, making it hard to sleep well. Then there's my lingering menstrual issues that could become cataclysmic again once my blood counts drop.
My intention after this round of poison was to stay rested and hydrated and do my best to take care of myself and possibly avoid any other hospitalizations between now and my bone marrow transplant days.
Were I so lucky.
I've got a sick, snotty cat whose dried snot is all over the sofa. Plus a snotty toddler who threw up twice during dinner tonight. Yum. And here I am with a weakened immune system. Infections, even ones as small as upper respiratory, have the potential to create huge issues with my treatment.
Tomorrow, I get to spend the morning in Cancerville Clinic.
So excuse me if I'm a little crabby.
I had really hoped to do as good a job as Prisco did, hyping up our little wager, but I need my sleep. Especially if I am going to kick his ass with this book race thing we've got going on.
It's totally on. I have many things to live for in this world, namely my wonderful and beautiful family. Beating Prisco's bald, fat butt by reading 100 books first is just going to add a big old thermonuclear jump start to my getting through this cancer mess.
So I start with a few ghost stories.
Any other recommendations?