Day Ten On Chemo

Thank goodness for make-up. I am sure the scales will tip with the poundage of cover-up I am pasting on whenever I head to town. My face , chest and back have broken out in acne. Nothing too bad about that- just quit looking in the mirror I tell myself. Tug, tug...the hair is still there, although my skull is tingling and I scratch it frequently. Sigh. It's still all good. I lick my numb lips. Well, mostly all good. The only thing that stands between Chemo Me and the Old Me today resides mostly in my mouth. I keep biting and nibbling at the insides of it and there's an ache that goes up into my ears so I feel right on the verge of an infection all the time. Nothing tastes right and I'm thinking that issue is going to last the entire three months. Suddenly I love Gatorade and tea with milk and honey!
They say Days 7-10 are the bottom. So here we are and it's not bad at all. My energy is climbing back up, possibly from all the sweets I've been allowing myself for the first time in years. The Naturopath advised strongly against refined sugar during the chemo as it feeds cancer cells. So I am trying to go with the Nutrasweet, Sucralose, honey, Stivia thing. But I am dehydrated constantly so much so that I dropped 5 pounds- all liquid. You can see it on me. Even my breasts have shrunk two sizes. The sports drinks are helping me retain some of the fluid, so they're going to have to stay, 42 gms of sugar per bottle and all! I'll have to remember to ask the nutritionist about that when I see her again, but somehow I know that dehydration has to be stopped anyway possible. Regular water tastes horrible- like drinking aluminum from a tap, so I'm sticking with the milk, juices and sports drinks.
Lately I've had fewer times out on the couch during the day. Thanks to my girlfriend Sharon, I managed to get Skype downloaded onto my laptop and running, something that even the thought of doing last week was draining. I'm feeling so good that in one breath I say I am ready to do this all again. Give me another round. In the next breath I realize there are still lingering symptoms. If I was to take an honest stock account, I'm like an engine running on three of four cylinders. Not all there, but the car still runs.
Eleven days to Chemo Two. But as far as I'm concerned, we can do this! Burp...Honey...where's the antacids?