I got through my first treatment of chemo. I should stop here and just say goodbye. That is all anyone who went through the two poisons they pumped into me for five hours last week should say. If anyone who has cancer or will have cancer finds out what it did to me for five days last week, they might decide not to take the treatment. I wouldn't want to be the reason a person does or does not take their cancer treatments. All treatments are different, so please, don't go by me. I am prejudiced by what it did to me, and it is poison by the way.
The first treatment I took made me want to die and I adamantly will not take but the already scheduled next two treatments, period, unless I see some concrete improvement in the next PetScan. I would not take another treatment at all, but I'm not letting the fucking agony I went through for five days last week all go for naught.
It wasn't the sickness or nausea that got to me. They had pills that helped with that. But when they told me it might get into my joints, and it might hurt, I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be lying on the floor crying like a two-year old for his pacifier. Anyone who has read me for any amount of time, knows that I'm on a first name basis with pain. Hell, we play golf together. (he cheats). But there's pain, and then there's the agony that the poison they pumped into me did to my body. The chemo literally set every joint in my body on fire and throbbed like the drums you hear in old Tarzan movies. I kid you not.
I should have known. I have gout in my ankles anyway. Add arthritis in my knees, hands and arms along with permanently inflamed bursitis in my right arm that I ruined playing baseball in my army days and you have "The Perfect Storm". I had to double-up on my meds to stop the pain (it didn't) so I ran low, and it being a holiday, the doctors were gone and the particular pharmacy I "have" to purchase my medications from was closed. Therefore, I had no choice but to suffer until I saw my family doctor on Thursday, five days later. It was a Tsunami of errors and I literally wanted to die. At times I thought would.
As I said, I do not plan on continuing this course of treatment if I see no improvement after two more sessions. I would rather live out my life free of the pain and sickness that this poison embarks upon you. I do not want my families last memories of me to be a sick old man agonizing in pain and soiling the fucking bedsheets. I will not go out that way, period!
But, so far I've concentrated on the negative. Maybe, just maybe, this chemo stuff may work. There is always that chance. Stranger things have happened, and if you think about it, anything that hurts this much has to be killing something. It may be my other organs, I have no idea, but if it's anywhere around the cancer that is in my body, it's choking the hell out of it. Nothing can hurt this much and not do damage to something.
So, in eight days, I will sit back down in the Chair of Torture for five more hours and take another two doses of chemo poison, my second, and pray to my God that it does not hurt as bad as the first one did. But I do know this. I will have enough pain meds to kill a small elephant and may even have what we hippies in the 70's called "Doobies" just in case the meds don't do the trick. Just Kidding. (yeah, right)