These have been some of the easiest days after chemo since the first one. I don’t know if it is the port or if my body is getting used to everything. Even the fatigue was less. I still went to bed at 9:30, or as the Uruguayans like to call it “dinner time.” And I still spent 48 hours sitting on a couch watching The Good Wife. But, I really didn’t have many symptoms.
I will say, the universe must like me smelly. When I was burned, I could not shower until all of the bandages came off. One whole month of sponge baths was enough to send me straight over the edge. Although the port was only 48 hours of not showering, getting into that shower today sans bandages was just as glorious as the last time I had to shower fast. Plus, it’s 85 degrees here, so I’m sweating like a pig. There is nothing more disgusting than feeling sticky and not being able to shower. But today was the magic day. Bandages came off, a shower commenced and I feel pretty much back to normal.
My appetite has changed a bit. I don’t really want to eat, but I am blaming the heat on this one. Mom made popcorn and apples with peanut butter and I scarfed that down just fine. And my taste buds are changing. I bit into a cherry tomato and it was like an explosion happened in my mouth. The acidity was like fire. It happened with vinegar from the cole slaw as well. It only lasts for a second, but it’s strange nonetheless.
There were a lot of laughs this go around. I have to share a completely embarrassing story. Mom mentioned that I wasn’t as gassy as normal this go around. Since, uncontrollable body noises is basically my hell, I was overjoyed to realize that she was right. (The last thing I need is to fart in the middle of class on Monday.) Mom was on the phone with my aunt and I was texting on the couch when pppppffffffffffffff. I looked up wide-eyed and said, “Well, so much for no gas.” Watching Mom try to keep a straight face on the phone was worth it. At the very least, it was the only incident that happened this weekend. Nevertheless, I giggled like an eight-year-old boy for a good five minutes.
We laughed a lot trying on wigs. We laughed a lot when Katie came over and we watched Broad City. We laughed a lot talking to my brother in New York. I laughed at lot catching up with my friend Maggi. And I laughed a lot with the abundance of cartoons Nicolas sent me throughout the weekend. I still say laughter is my best medicine. And this time, it proved true.