6 down, 2 to go
Posted by wendy on 2011/04/07
I’m home from my 6th treatment (my 2nd with Taxol), and I’m a bit sleepy, but otherwise, I feel great. A was my chemo partner today and we went to Ruby Tuesdays for burgers after, then ran by the store to grab a new water filter, and now…here I am.
I did get a bit of bad news–my insurance company has decreed they will no longer pay for my neulasta shot (I get this shot the day after each chemo treatment to help get my white blood cell count back up a bit sooner than normal—this is what has helped me go every 2 weeks for treatment, and it’s cut 2 MONTHS off of my chemo time. ). grr. I’m a bit upset by this, but I asked my onc if she thinks I will be able to just power through the next two (I firmly believe I can, but then I have been known to have unrealistic expectations of what my body can and cannot do *cough* *backbends 3 months after major surgery* *cough*). But, yay! She–sort of–agrees with me. I’m young, I’m in excellent health, and my counts have not actually gone DOWN since this started. So, we’re skipping Neulasta tomorrow, and I’m going to pop in next week for a blood test. If I’m up, then YAY–I will just be a BEAST and power through April. If they’re down, she’s going to send those results back to the insurance company as the argument that “yes, yes, Wendy neeeeds her Nuelasta.”. Win-win, really. Frankly, as long as I’m not thrown off my schedule, I’m happy either way. May 5, people. MAY 5. My very last chemo. *dances*
I’ve not been around here much–real life and all that. Isn’t that the cruelest joke of all? Life goes on. You’re sick, and you’re supposed to concentrate on getting better, but how does one do that when it’s tax time (and oh maan, do I owe. sigh.) and there are hospital bills pouring in day after day and you have to sort insurance papers against them and there are dishes to do and dogs to feed and I have discovered that my underwear will not get up and wash itself, no matter how long it sits in the hamper.
I was extremely pleased invest in a new wig last week–it went on sale, and it’s the same cut and color as my normal blonde wig, but it’s curled, which will come in handy for going out with handsome British men who’ve promised to take me to inamo the next time we’re in London. They’re both from the Jaclyn Smith collection, (not as spendy as the Raquel Welch wigs I tried on in the local wig shop, but very very nice and soft and real looking), and I loooves them, precious. The one on the bottom has the nifty little lace front that looks like your actual hairline/scalp. Very, very nice.
Thank you for providing the world with reasonably priced, CUTE wigs. The lady at the American Cancer Society kept trying to give me Mom Hair, and no amount of me giving her the stink eye from underneath the platinum blonde helmet she shoved on my head would sway her from telling me that I look like a “WAIF! Not a Mom! No, reeeeeally, Sugar!”. I realize her intentions were nothing but good, but I don’t do mom hair, people. I DO NOT. I lost nearly around 30 inches of hair to cancer. I’m so not about to compromise any further.