Brain Tumor · Medical Cannabis

Cancer Ramblings

I’m exhausted. The kind of exhausted where I’m too tired to get up and plug in the cannabis vape pen that needs charging because I spent all that energy an hour ago making toast with peanut butter and a cup of green tea.

So I’m lying in bed composing a blog post on my phone instead of standing up, and I’ll ask Dan to charge my V2 Pro next time he comes in to check on me.

***

My platelets are low (64 at last week’s count) and I’ve been barfing again. No idea if those two things are related. Also, though I don’t really want to admit it, I’ve been basically bed ridden for a couple of weeks.

It’s not the cancer; it’s the treatment.

After my last round of chemo, I didn’t regain much strength. I mean, it’s always hard, but it seems to be getting harder. Could be the absence of the dexamethasone now. Could be the cumulative effects of the chemo treatments. Could be the shit-ass weather and extra migraines I’ve had this month.

That’s the thing about brain cancer and its treatments. So many potential causes for the add-on problems, and no sure way to identify the cause.

So you just endure.

***

Dan just plugged in the vape for me and told me goodnight. He did Boomer’s voice for him as he pulled the door closed.

“Love you too, Ma.”

“Love you too, Boom!”

“Love you too, Ma.”

(I don’t know. We’re weird. We do voiceovers for our pets. Also I sleep in the guest bedroom. It sucks. Cancer sucks.)

I asked Dan once why Boomer always said “I love you too” over and over, and he informed me that it was because Boomer had to have the last word.

Duh.

***

Anyway, barfing.

I woke up at 11:30 last night and reached for a vomit bag. The combination smell of those vinyl bags, my PB&J, and stomach acid left me heaving long after I’d blown all my chunks.

When the spasming in my stomach stopped, I brushed my teeth for the second time and walked the bag to the garage. I had called to Dan for help, but he was snoring. Hard.

Oh well, he deserves to sleep, I thought.

Unfortunately, I had to turn the hall lights on, and he stumbled in to check on me when I returned. I was sitting on the bed pouting. The dog and cat were right on Dan’s heels, and I commented that everybody had come to console me.

If there’s a bright side to puking in this house, it’s that everyone is curious. You’re never alone.

***

Regardless, I hate throwing up. It’s the worst. And I mostly hate food now too. (I’ve lost 26 pounds since quitting dexamethasone, but don’t worry. I’m still unbelievably fat for a girl who hauls 2-pound vomit bags to the garbage a couple times a week.)

***

I have no wrap-up for this post. I’m just going to try to sleep now.

Brain Tumor · Medical Cannabis

I Might Owe Dex a Very Small Apology

It appears I was a bit hasty in my judgment of dexamethasone. Still suffering after a round of chemo without it, I can now see that in spite of its horrible side effects it was masking some of chemo’s even more horrible side effects.

I won’t go into the full details of my emetic escapades, more for my sake than yours. But I will just say that Activia is off the menu for a few days while I purge my scent memory.

There was some discussion between Dan and I about what to do next, seeing how I spent maybe three hours not in bed this past week.

“You could try taking the dex only during the week you do chemo,” Dan suggested.

I whined something about not wanting to while admitting it wasn’t an unreasonable suggestion. “It was just so hard to quit. I almost think I’d rather suffer some new evil than go through that again.”

For now I’ve decided to take more Zofran, despite the headaches and hiccups. I’ll use cannabis to make me want food and Zofran to keep it down.

At least until the next thing. Because there is always a next thing.

Brain Tumor

Chemo Round 5

Last month when I completed chemo round 4, I did it at Mom & Dad’s to give Dan a couple of weeks off from caregiving.

It was the first chemo week were I had zero GI distress on the Wednesday following taking Gleostine, so naturally I was obsessed with why that time was different.

“Mom buys different yogurt,” I told Dan. “I was reading the labels and it has different active cultures in it. Buy me that Jamie Lee Curtis junk next time.”

When you’re on chemo you get lots of people telling you how much you need to eat yogurt, but they don’t really bother to say which kind. I switched to Activia at home. No GI distress for round 5 either.

I have at least one thing to celebrate.

The rest of round 5 has been difficult. Being off the dexamethasone is a two-edged sword. I’m losing weight, but my appetite is crap. Not eating plus not having the steroid is making me even more weak and tired. Something I thought was a physical impossibility.

Food is mostly gross right now, and there’s little rhyme or reason to what I can stomach and what I can’t. Generally, the warmer the food, the more it smells, the more it makes me want to hurl.

But eating cold food in the winter gets old fast.

And most of the time I just feel too tired to eat. Like moving my jaw to chew is just too much to ask of myself.

Also the word “chew” made me feel sick just now.

*Puts hand over mouth*

I should be coming to the end of the worst part of Chemo Week #5 soon though. And I managed to venture out into the back yard today for a few minutes.

It was a little too windy to not be cold, but the fresh air was good for me. I’m in need of an early Spring. If you see that groundhog, pick him up by the scruff and threaten to replace him with a marmot unless he does the right fucking thing.

Brain Tumor

Dexamethasone Sucks

Remember how I’m coming off the dexamethasone? Here’s an update I posted to Facebook yesterday:

As of 8:36 am, I was 96 hours dexamethasone free. But as morning turned into noon, I started feeling sick to my stomach. (I’ve been down this road before, so I had a small lunch of yogurt and 2 cuties and popped a 1/4 mg of dex to stave off the vomiting. You’re supposed to take dex with food.)

“I don’t want to start horking and land in the ER again like I did in June,” I told Dan.

Four minutes later my entire head was in a vomit bag.

So here’s the question: Did I or didn’t I take dex today? Or maybe it’s Schrödinger’s Dex?

While the vomiting has been quelled by a medical cannabis patch, the nausea is lingering. My appetite is at about 6%, but that’s OK for now. I still have a ton of steroid weight to lose. So far I’ve made do with a bowl of Rice Chex, some lactose-free, high-protein milk, and eight Wheat Thins.

I’m going to try real hard to eat some chicken nuggets tonight. Salt and protein have always been my way out of Pukelandia.

Aside from the gross stuff, I’m having major muscle fatigue and soreness. My quads are screaming at me like I’ve been marathon training without taking any rest days, despite the fact I’ve just been in bed whining since Tuesday.

I’m also having some issues with rebound swelling and double vision. Both things to keep an eye on, because my brain could swell, too, without the dex—and that would be bad. And require me to go back on the dex. And we don’t want that.

Dear god, we do not want that.

 

Brain Tumor

The Dexamethasone Saga Continues

I haven’t taken dexamethasone since December 31, 2017. I didn’t plan for it to be a year-end thing, it just worked out that way. And, although I’m proud to be 72 hours steroid free, I am not completely out of the woods.

I’ve been pretty much bed-ridden since Christmas, when I started the final step down before quitting. My muscles hurt in ways that force me to shuffle down the hallway taking the tiniest steps. I ask Dan to fill my water glass for me and turn switches on and off, because I just can’t.

My skin hurts. When I twist my torso to grab the toilet paper orI roll over in bed, my skin feels like it’s being twisted or pinched after first being carpet burned. But all of this is on the under side of my skin, not the surface. (Don’t worry if this doesn’t make sense to you; it doesn’t make sense to me either.)

My coat hanger pain is so intense, it frequently reduces me to tears. The referred pain from the nerve it pinches goes into my left arm, my neck, my jaw, my ear. And the muscles covering my skull on the left side of my head—the ones I used to use to wiggle my ears—are just tiny over-dramatic knots. When my head hits the pillow, they signal to my brain that someone’s digging around in an open wound.

Because I hate to leave things on a completely negative note: I bought the Bedknobs & Broomsticks Blu-Ray with an Amazon gift card the other day. It is supposed to arrive today, and once it gets here I am going to watch it on repeat until I fall asleep.

 

 

Brain Tumor

Very Little Happening Over Here

garage saleLast week my parents were here to help us clean and organize.

That’s because I came home after completing daily radiation therapy in April, and there were still things I hadn’t found a place for. My home office was the catch-all for anything I couldn’t deal with—meaning the floor was entirely covered with laundry baskets full of clothes, books, gifts, papers, and furniture.

Sure, it was annoying walking by that room and seeing the chaos, but it was also a hazard. I don’t exactly get around well on my feet when there aren’t a billion obstacles in my way.

Anyway, my parents (a.k.a. the best parents in the world) helped us clean, mow, fix my Kitchen Aid mixer, and more—all while my mom is dealing with her own sidelining medical problems.

In October, the plan is to have a garage sale as a way to finish de-cluttering and fund-raise for ourselves. If you’re in the area and want to see what we’ve got for sale, watch my Facebook page for an announcement. If you’re not in the area but want to help, you can contribute to my YouCaring campaign or buy from our Amazon wishlist (items automatically ship to our address when you buy).

***

It’s been so long since I’ve posted here. I feel like I should give a health update. Truth is, there’s not much to tell. I spend a lot of time sleeping. The first week after a chemo treatment, I’m exhausted and tired.

But there’s also the issue of my tapering off of dexamethasone again. I’m down to one half-milligram dose daily. It makes me so lethargic and all of my muscles are achy and sore. Not just major muscle groups like quads and hamstrings and biceps and triceps, but the muscles in my cheeks and hands and toes.

My oncologist says I’m on such a low dose of dex that he doesn’t see how it can be affecting me so dramatically. This is the story of my life, people. Medicines that barely affect most patients will potentially melt me from the inside out. It’s a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, if I take a half dose of Benadryl, I will sleep for a week. On the other hand, medical cannabis works so well on me that I only have to visit the dispensary every six weeks or so.

Anyway, coming off of the steroid is not fun, but I am more confident that I will actually be able to quit taking the dexamethasone entirely in a few more weeks. That will hopefully lead to much needed weight loss and help me scratch steroid-induced diabetes off my list of things to worry about.

Brain Tumor · Medical Cannabis

Gleostine: Round 1, Part 1

It’s been about 72 hours since my first dose of gleostine, and I wanted to let you know how things are going.

No Puking, Hooray!

Although I was awash in waves of queasiness for the first 36 hours or so, my stomach never gave up the goods. (Thanks, Zofran. Thanks, medical cannabis.)

This is particularly encouraging because I’m also just a few days into another dexamethasone taper, and I learned at the oncologists’s last month that dex is sometimes prescribed as an anti-nausea med. So it could’ve been a double-whammy. But it wasn’t. I am grateful.

So Much Fatigue

The most severe side effect I’ve experienced is a crushing fatigue. It surpasses any fatigue I’ve experienced to date and feels like my legs and arms are encumbered with cast iron while I try to wade through peanut butter.

The good news is that it seems I’ve reached peak fatigue already, and I’m starting to get some energy back. The new sativa strain I vape during the day actually gives me a little boost of energy, but it’s not powerful enough to completely counteract the chemo.

We celebrate tiny miracles in this household though. Usually with food.

Gearing Up to Say Goodbye to My Eyebrows

I rubbed my eyes today, and noticed a disconcerting number of eyebrow hairs just fall out. I have no idea if this will be limited to eyebrows or if I’ll start losing the hair on my head too.

And I was just bragging yesterday about how I was going for an Anne Burrell-inspired hairdo as my hair had been growing really well the past couple of weeks.

No Allergic Reaction

The absolute best news is that I’m able to tolerate the gleostine. Having a few extra weeks of treatment made it possible for me to enjoy some outdoor time and play Just Dance, but I was getting itchy about doing something to proactively target the brain tumor.