It's not the heat, it's the humidity!

I didn't write a post yesterday, but if I had it would have gone a little something like this.

Did anybody get the license plate of that bus? 'Cause I'm pretty sure it just ran me over. Also, chemo...sucks.

Not so great, right? And that's why I didn't write anything yesterday. But I'm feeling much better (and much funnier) today. So here you go...

Before round one of chemo last week, I went on to the ACS website and downloaded their handy-dandy symptom tracker. It helps you keep track of all kinds of things like your daily temperature, how tired you are, hungry, nauseous, etc. All the things your doc is going to want to know in between treatments. So far it's been pretty useful, and I only have two complaints with it:

1. The front page includes a disclaimer that basically says you may have some of these, all of these, none of these, or things that aren't even on this sheet because we've never heard of them.
2. There's no column for feel like I've been hit by a frickin' bus. So I had to make my own. 

Remember on Friday when I was all "Haha, look at me! I can still eat solid foods and I haven't puked yet?" Yea...about that.

The good news is, solid foods are still going down and staying down. (Yay!) They just taste a little funny. You know that taste (feeling?) you get when you've burned the inside of your mouth on a too-hot beverage? And for days everything else you eat tastes just a little off?  It's just like that.

Also, perhaps my overconfidence in a full days work on Monday was a bit foolish. 'Cause I pretty much fell asleep at 7 that evening and spent the following 24 hours on the couch/in bed. I asked Rob what was the best way to call into work feeling like a bag of ass, and he suggested I just tell them I was not feeling well. Ever the tactful one.

The funny thing is, most side effects come from the antimedics (the drugs they give you to protect you from the chemo)... and not the actual chemo itself.

For example, on Friday we had to make a quick trip back to the infusion center for an injection of Lupron and Neulasta. Lupron medically puts you into temporary menopause in order to protect your ovaries from chemo. So in addition to breast cancer, I get to look forward to menopause at 31. And Neulasta helps your bone marrow produce more white blood cells, as those become quite the commodity during chemo. Unfortunately, your bone marrow is all like but I don't wanna make more blood cells and just raises hell, so now your bones hurt. And then you take Vicodin. And a nap.

Seriously, though, that's not the worst of it. You wanna hear what's worse? Are you sure? Here you go...

Adult Acne

I'm so not kidding, y'all. The steroids cause such ridiculous acne, I'm thinking of moonlighting in a Proactive commercial. Achey-bone, pimple-faced, menopause is so not frickin' cute. It's like being some kind of effed up Benjamin Button over here.

But speaking of Benjamin Button! Hat Party next weekend (Saturday the 16th). Mark you calendar. Invite to follow!