Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): I met with some WONDERFUL nurses today to review my treatment plan and tour the lovely chemo ward at the cancer center. The snack bar I was excited to see was sad for me because of my parosmia. I can only drink the juices, according to my current conditions. There is a lot of information for me to sift through, but I will share what I think you all want to know right now. T-minus two days until my first round of chemo. Rip.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

You know a drug is bad when the nickname for it is “the red devil.” I have entered a special place in hell that has lots of poison and the sweetest humans giving you the poison. Hell would be twisted like that. You think you are having a good time and then two days later you’re puking in your bathroom and having to flush twice because your poops are toxic. Let’s talk ~chemo cocktails!~

On Thursday, I undergo my first round of chemotherapy. I have a total of four rounds over the course of the next eight weeks. I will receive treatment every other week. Rounds one through four contain two drugs: adriamycin and cytoxan, also known as A/C or the street name “the red devil,” specifically referring to adriamycin because it is like red Kool-Aid and it is gnarly. These drugs aim to do one thing: fuck with cancer. And also fuck with your body because they are already there why would they only hang out with the cancer??? These drugs are the reason I will lose my hair, roughly at the two and a half week mark (among other potential side effects.) I am going zero to sixty so fast. There is no “testing the waters” so to say with these drugs. I dive right in with big doses and I was told I should see reduction of my tumor size by the time I hit my weekly chemo’s. I am looking forward to feeling my tumor shrink but sad that my only party trick of getting people to touch my boob will eventually stop. (This is a joke if you don’t know me that well.)

Random tangent that is not that random: Remember that weird needle countdown I was working on? Well surprise surprise motherfuckers. I should NEVER assume that just because I have a port now that I am not seeing a needle go elsewhere in my body. I am an idiot. The day after every red devil appointment, I will have to come in for a special injection of pegfilgrastim. This little drug is essentially a growth factor used to stimulate the growth of “healthy” white blood cells in the bone marrow. White blood cells help the body to fight infection. So now we can add at least four needles into my countdown. Those will be injected subcutaneously into my stomach. They tried to sooth me with the fact that the needle is small but yo… that is still a needle in my stomach. I cannot be soothed!

Okay so after me and the red devil do a little dancing in Georgia (lol I had to say it), I will move to weekly chemos for twelve weeks. This is where we introduce Taxol, our final drug! Taxol comes with its own lovely side effects and will be infused titrated during my appointments. This one is less scary than the red devil combo and I should be a bit more functional. I can go into more detail about that in the future FAQ post because honestly it is 9:30 pm at night and I need to sleep.

But there is a final needle I need to mention: Needle number 5 (not to be confused with Mambo No. 5.) That is the needle to put my ovaries “to sleep.” Now… initially my oncologist casually brought this up during my initial consultation with her. She made it seem like it was just this very easy event blah blah blah. NO. I asked my nurses about it today and they said there was nothing on order for me right now, but if I wanted that I should ask my oncologist. Essentially, this shot is like VERY painful, gets injected into your stomach, and some sort of pellet is dropped inside of you to help your ovaries sleep during chemo. Like fuck. Things are already hard. Why does everything have to involve needles?? Why????? More on that later, probably.

I received a shit ton of information that will inform the FAQ page I will work on this week since it is too much for this single post, but the most important piece of information I saw was on my chemotherapy education sheet. There was a section that said, “The goals of my chemotherapy treatment are (circle one): Palliative / Curative.” They had circled “curative.” I cannot wait to ring those bells and say I am cancer’s fucking worst nightmare, that I defeated the red devil, and I am cancer free.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Elvis Presley. Chemo look like an angel, walk like an angel, and turns out to be just a red devil. Sike!

“You look like an angel (look like an angel)
Walk like an angel (walk like an angel)
Talk like an angel
But I got wise

You’re the devil in disguise
Oh, yes, you are, devil in disguise”

– (You’re The) Devil In Disguise, Elvis Presley