When you decide to create a personal blog like this, there’s a lot of redundancy and navel gazing. This is of course preferable to nasal grazing, which is somewhat appalling to consider. But what about navel grazing or nasal gazing? I guess the former is rather, er, kinky and/or requires more flexibility than I possess. The latter would result in crossed eyes, or just too much time spent looking in the mirror. Hard to get a clear view of one’s nose without a mirror. Isn’t language wonderful though?

Interesting to note that because chemotherapy wrecks havoc with your fast growing cells, nose linings are impacted (anything soft like your nose, mouth, stomach, etc). For two weeks – once I go off prednisone until my next treatment, my nose runs like crazy, it’s stuffed up and I sneeze constantly. One of the more benign but annoying side effects.

But i digress… so back to the point I was trying to make.

I don’t like the label “cancer survivor”. Just as I don’t like the “war against cancer” or “war” against any other disease, addiction or condition. The fighting metaphor is really lost on me. I don’t like the idea of fighting my body. Have spent enough time fighting it for other reasons (see posts on body image, if I ever finish them). I want to work with my body, not fight bits of it. I guess there is a lot of violence inherent in cancer treatment – lots of killing cells and so forth. But maybe there’s another way to think of it…. maybe replacement, rejuvenation, renovation. Home Improvement. Cell Improvement.

I haven’t had cancer long enough to be a survivor, and well, if I believe my oncologist and gynecologist, most of it, if not all the cancer is gone. My treatment is more or less prophylactic. Sort of. I suppose there are always micro (nano) mets hiding out somewhere. So what am I surviving? I suppose chemotherapy is something to survive. Radiation might be too. But anyway, I’d prefer to be a Person Who Hopes She Formerly Had Cancer. Has a “performer formerly known as Prince” flavor to it. PHSFHC. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue though…. needs work.

On Monday I have my last anthracycline infusion. My last bag of red stuff, and all the other stuff that goes with it. My last 6 day taper off prednisone, anti-nausea drugs and movicol. Movicol is a laxative, btw. I keep looking for a picture of a cow on the box though – mooooo-vi-col. Get it? Ah, I’m in a silly mood today.

I’m also tired. Yesterday I was sort of blah. I think when my counts are really low I’m not at my most optimistic. I suspect my counts bottomed out yesterday and will be coming back up over the weekend. By Monday, they should be back up to where they can tolerate the chemo. It’s great to know that we can recover from these things. Back and forth, the see-saw of chemotherapy. Give and take.

My sister comes on Monday too, for 4 weeks. That will be fun. M goes to the US for about a week, so I’m glad for the company. And it’s definitely spring here. We’ve had gorgeous days, cows out in the field, flowers blooming. With spring comes the pungent smell of manure or whatever they put on the fields. That might be the downside. My eyes are sensitive enough these days…. they do water a bit. But it’s worth it to see the cows run across the field to get their dinner. A cow running is really a sight to behold.

I’ll have more to say about the next chemo, but I have to ask some questions about it……. so maybe next week…..