Monday, May 17, 2010

Day One Scoop, followed by Random Poop

Day One, after chemo.
I woke up.
Feeling anything yet? Not really.
Just very sore and tired from my surgery.

Start with the breakfast of champions: multi-vitamin, D3, fish oil, green juice, green tea envy "detox," a banana, vitamin "v" (vicodin), and vitamin "l" (lorazepam). Just a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down.

Oh and don't forget the big pill. Emend. Priced like a truffle. Later today I need to go to the cancer center to get my first shot of neupogen, one of 7 each day after chemo.

I was surprisingly full of vim and vigor. Veta-vita-vegimen, my youngest brother Ronald said.

I am feeling pretty good here. I get ambitious. I decide to do a little shopping since my candle supply is dwindling and I still need to find a neck roll and some fluffy warm socks. I get that done.

I make some carrot cake cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. For dinner, grilled chicken thighs marinated in olive oil, salt, pepper, pesto and sun-dried tomato, served with cheese tortellini and pesto and feta cheese, sauteed broccoli and asparagus, oh and some tabouli. Sounds good, huh? It was. Oh and cut up pineapple and watermelon. Trying to have lots of colors on the plate.

It was a good day. I felt great. I went to bed thinking about a conversation I had with Robin earlier in the week. Little did I know I was seeing the future.

When I picked him up from school and asked about his day, this is how it went.

"Hi Boo, how was your day?"
"Terrible" and then he grins. He does this same routine everyday.
"Terribl-e-e-e-ey great!"

I ask him anything funny happen? "Like anybody yet?"

"Mom, do we have to go over this again? No, not really. Well, kinda. But I am not telling you her name! You are not getting it out of me! So get over it." Gosh this kid is cute. Ok so he's mine, but awful cute.

"Tell me her name, I probably don't know her, just tell me her name" and I give him my cutest Mom has cancer pout.

"No lady, settle down."

"You ever talk to her?"

"She doesn't talk to boys much, but Bob was teasing her, and so I went over and said "Hey Bob, stop flirting with Petunia" and Petunia said "Thanks Robin."

"HA, her name is Petunia. HA. I got you. PETUNIA!" I am evil that way.

"Dang, she tricked me."

So what else, I ask. What's happening in band? Robin is a star mallet player, otherwise known as the xylophone.

"Oh you know, we are learning a bunch of new music, some hard stuff and you know Mom, just a bunch of random poop."

It was a good day. I almost forgot I have breast cancer and I almost forgot I started chemo the day before.

It was a good day.


Chemo, Day Two.
Random Poop.

Sumpthin just didn't feel right. Sumpthin just felt all wrong. I did my usual morning routine. Well, except for one thing. You know, that one important thing you really should do every morning? No, not 25 jumping jacks. No, not read the paper. You know. Ok, ok, you tortured it out of me.

I couldn't poop.

Amongst many other aches and pains and general malaise, I really really had to poop people but nothing would happen. After several attempts.

Aren't ya glad you are following this blog? Inquiring minds want to know...

I messaged Husband from inside the upstairs bathroom. He was downstairs.

"I need you to go to the store."

"You there?"

No answer.

"Robin" I called from the bathroom. That kid always hears me.

"Yeah Mom?"

"Tell Daddy I need help".

Shortly after, Husband is skidding off to store to get gentle woman's laxative, prune juice and preparation H.

HURRY MAN. HURRY.

After several hours of being too far in to stop and not being far enough for anything to happen, finally, excruciatingly, I, well, you know. Just about passed out on the toilet. I was scared to look.

I usually poop like Tinkerbell. This looked like something Mrs. Jumbo, all her friends, and all Dumbo's friends would leave behind. OMG! Call the clown truck to clean up under the big top!

But they said chemo causes diarrhea, not this! Not this! Poor little Tink's booty. Not this.

I was absolutely exhausted and completely petrified to ever poop again.

You know you've been in some deep trouble when later the tiniest little fart hurts. OMG.

Sorry guys. You wanted the inside story. This is it.

Shit happens.

Even worse?

When it doesn't.

2 comments:

ann said...

Thanks for that last tidbit Deb. Yes, as a nurse you would think I would want to here all details. Yes, all details. Hope you continue to take the laxative. The drugs do that to a person. Stop em' up. Get er'done Deb. I am thinking of you. Luv ya

masonmft said...

I guess the book "Everybody Poops" was just a big fat lie. Love you.

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