Chemotherapy Number 11

We are down to the last two. I would be a liar if I said these are not really kicking my ass. Usually walking into Day Care is a pleasure – the nurses are all smiling and I am pretty mentally prepared. But this time, I just didn’t feel good. I felt heavy. Mom was rubbing my legs and asking if everything was okay and I simply looked out the window and said “I don’t want to be here.” This depression Kim is not like me. I am not a depressed person, but I feel like a black cloud has been hanging over these last few treatments. People keep telling me that it is ok and normal to feel this way. But when it isn’t normally me, it doesn’t feel normal. img_8707

It’s Semana Santa or The Week of Tourism. Therefore, all of the main nurses were off. I was still in good hands. There was new nurse, probably a student or intern who did all of my initial things – hospital band, blood pressure etc. She was so interested in my name because she said that she saw it on the napkin holders at the mall. She was wondering if I had anything to do with the brand since Kimberly Coyle is such a rare name in Uruguay. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she saw Kimberly Clark and oh how I wish that I was associated with the brand. If that was the case, I would be having chemotherapy on a jet to somewhere exotic. My blood pressure was really low. 80/51 I have never had blood pressure problems, which might explain some of the dark cloud feelings.

Maria from school was our company this time. She and mom started talking from minute one. We figured out that we are all going to be in Texas at the same time this summer and may have a chance to get together. That would be so lovely. I love her daughters and her, plus a bonus – people for Nico to talk to in Spanish.

The port needle was put in and we were on the way. It took a little longer for me to feel loopy, but once it hit I was out. I slept for a little bit, not as much as I usually do. And I woke with a ton of energy. Mom brought snacks because I cannot stomach the hospital food anymore. Even the thought of some of the things I have eaten over the past treatments is enough to turn my stomach. I really love carrots right now, which is what I crunched on. It was like a hospital picnic. img_8711

Once the tin foil one was complete and the saline drip finished, my blood pressure was taken one more time. 91/54. Still low but good enough that we were heading out the door. The process was simple, but man did I feel bad afterwards. I got home and slept. Then I just stared out the window for a while, my mind this blank void. At times I felt like I couldn’t breathe and had to cough just to get a full breath. When I finally got to the point of sitting up and joining the land of the living, all I wanted was Ramon soup. Salty, probably really bad for me, but it actually tasted like something – not a mouth full of metal or moth balls. I didn’t make it much longer after eating. I only lasted through two episodes of The Good Wife. I went to bed around 8. And except for the needing water for my dry mouth and then having to pee the water out, I pretty much slept rock hard until about 8 the next morning. The good news is I woke up at least feeling normal enough not to want to waste the day.


No socks this time

Literally one more to go.

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