10. My wife, the sleepy she-hulk...
Steroids and chemo drugs are an odd combination. Toss in some pain-killing Oxy and the pharma-cocktail is the equivalent of a roofie margarita with a cocaine chaser.
Okay, having never seen that kind of combo, I may be exaggerating for effect, but it has been a roller coaster. And like all great amusement park rides, it started slowly enough.
Chemo isn’t that hard, especially for me who isn’t getting poison pumped into my body, but the actual event is pretty chill. Steph sits in a chair, they put a large needle in her arm then over the next two hours start to pump the drugs into her. (And by pump I mean hang a bag on a stand.)
“Dear God,” I thought. We’re gonna crush this chemo stuff. “All those people who whined about how hard it is, they don’t know my wife.”
It’s the next day when things start to go sideways. We were expecting the “flu like” symptoms to start right away - tired, sleepy, bone-weary - but the steroids kicked her into overdrive. Too amped to sleep, the house got cleaned, the laundry folded, the gym was gone to, and the internet fights were all fought in record time. (Also, we share laundry duties, so not sexist, it was just her turn.)
And then came the crash. Once the steroids wear off, there’s a bone weariness that comes on fast. There are drugs that mitigate it, but they’re pretty hit and miss. And while she’s tired, sleep is tough. She ends up in the living room on the floor with a tennis ball under the parts of body that respond well to pressure points, and I take up the whole bed, and wake up periodically to make sure she’s okay.
Because, oh yeah, she’s worried her heart might stop all of a sudden. I know. It won’t. But when you do what chemo does to your body, some weird dark thoughts are par for the course.
Luckily, the effects should all wear off… just in time do it all again.
This cancer shit always surprises. Just when you think you know what’s coming, the target moves and you’re adjusting on the fly yet again.