Article 15 Surviving Cancer & other potholes

“Better the devil you know, than the devil you don’t” – Jack Heath ( The Lab)

ONE week had passed since my fifth (yay!) chemotherapy session and some of the side effects seemed to have increased rather than dissipate by the second week as I had become accustomed to with the previous drug. I was thankful that I wasn’t throwing up or rejecting the smells around me but the Taxol (Paclitaxel) was no walk in the park either.
Just a few minutes after the drug had entered my bloodstream,my throat had begun to feel weird. I kept trying to clear what I presumed was phlegm; a week later and the uncomfortable feeling still existed. I was ecstatic that food smells were once again pleasant and I could pig out as much as I wanted without being worried about stomach cramps, nausea or vomiting; what I did have to worry about were the hives.
The Hives: It was like the new addition in my horror series. The worse side effect of my new drug was a ‘hypersensitivity reaction’ ( fever, chills, facial flushing ,hives). I experienced the facial flushing a few times, it felt like my face was on fire and pasty to the touch. The hives themselves were the killer. They came unexpectedly at any time and random parts of my body were affected. Limacol or anything alcohol based helped to quell the itching for a bit,but then it would return in another area. Even my bare scalp itched. It really was driving me crazy.
I experienced swollen hands and fingers ( more intensely than before) to the point where it was uncomfortable to type on the keyboard; I resorted to sending voice messages instead of texting because of how cumbersome it was to use my fingers. There was also the peripheral neuropathy (numbness and tingling of the hands and feet) that would attack suddenly;the worse episode I experienced were my hands literally cramping up and not being able to straighten my fingers completely for about two minutes. On my worst days I suffered through severe joint pain, a type of myalgia that I could feel literally down to my bones, this intensified with bad weather- the same as arthritic conditions and on my best days, pretty much the same. I couldn’t wait to complete my last three treatments. Essentially getting over being poisoned fortnightly to get better just to do it all over again was emotionally draining. I didn’t know if it was the drug that made me feel down in spirit or just the repetition of this procedure, but I was reaching my mental tolerance level and the persistent hives were doing nothing to help the situation.

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