TCHP's & 123's

Nothing like a little chemotherapy education to kick off this week:

T is for Taxotere.

C is for Carboplatin.

H is for Herceptin.

P is for Pertuzumab.

Tuesday, January 26th, 2021, we met with a nurse practitioner to walk through our chemo ABC's and learn more about the drugs I would be administered. And the medications I would need to take at home during chemo. And the ones I will be on for months after chemo.

And the side effects. Oooh the side effects...

F is for Fatigue.

N is for Nausea.

D is for Diarrhea.

Every. med. gives you. diarrhea.

Vomiting, numbness, tingling, metallic taste, discolored nails, headaches, body aches, bone aches, hot flashes, weight gain, weight loss, bleeding gums. Potential kidney damage, allergic reactions - did I mention diarrhea?

And then the big one - the hair loss. I've been avoiding putting too much thought and energy into the fact that I am going to lose my hair. The side effect that seems like chemo's rite of passage. It makes me shudder thinking about it, already embarrassed of how I will look. My hair doesn't define me, but it sure as hell has been a huge part of my identity the last 35 years. It sounds pathetic, but my hair was one of the only physical features of mine that I actually liked. And damn does it hold a curl.

There was the option of cold-capping. Basically an ice helmet that you wear during treatment (and a few hours after) that can help retain some of your hair. I didn't look too much into it. As much as I hate the idea of losing my hair, the cold-capping process sounded cumbersome and to be honest, our plate already feels full enough. With results not guaranteed, we made the decision to forego this path and instead come to grips with the fact that I'll end up an Asian Mr. Clean in a few weeks time (that's Asian Mrs. Clean, to you).

I will likely have someone come to our home soon after treatment starts to shave my head. For me, it's going to be better that way. I'd rather that than one day be in the shower and all of a sudden have a fist full of hair. At least I think so anyway. I will cry either way.

And then there's the eyebrows and the lashes. Thank God I'll still have my breasts for awhile, otherwise I would for sure be mistaken for one of the guys from the movie Fast & the Furious: Tokyo Drift.

Quick story: In high school, I worked at a before/after school childcare program. One morning, one of our younger regulars (we'll call him Max) was being dropped off by his mom. I went over to greet them, and when I came up close I must have gasped or done something that expressed surprise or confusion. His mom goes: "Yeeaaah...Max decided to shave his eyebrows off when no one was looking, so now he looks like a chemo patient." I remember laughing at the mom's sarcastic punchline as she rolled her eyes and threw up her hands like kids will be kids. How ironic that I am now a chemo patient. Who's laughing now, Max?? PS I hope they eventually grew back.

I won't see the majority of you before I start chemo, and likely won't see you much if at all during chemo given everything happening with COVID. If and when I see you after, know that I'm doing my best to wear my bare face, eyelids, and new 'do with pride, and most importantly hope - hope that I'll make it through this to see it all grow back when I am cancer-FREE.