Had my last chemo today.
For awhile, we weren't sure if I'd be getting it since I've been so sick this week from this demonic cold. However, since I didn't have a fever and since I haven't had a fever, and since I managed to not cough so they could hear how bad I sound, I got my infusion.
One week of being nauseous and feeling hung over, and this stage of this godforsaken journey is over. I did six infusions between Aug. 11 and Nov. 25. Then had a bilateral mastectomy Dec. 16. And just finished doing four dose dense infusions between January 22 and today, March fifth. I am so glad I decided to do the dose dense route. No way could I have done this and continued to work. I was wiped out after the first round of chemo, which was administered every three weeks, leaving me a week of feeling normal. With the dose dense, my blood counts never get a chance to climb. The lowest point is right around when I get my next dose. Pretty much everything is an effort, from thinking to...well, thinking and mental processing are both quite challenging right now. I feel really dumb much of the time. Physically, well, let's just not go there. It's depressing.
But that's all (nearly) behind me now. It's quite a relief. Quite. Truth be told, I fear the next stage of treatment more than I've feared anything in my life, but it is the LAST major hurdle I have planned. 6.5 weeks of daily radiation treatments. Guess it's time to get a schedule:)
I'm not going to let the fact that I was surrounded by women with recurrences today at the infusion center make me any less optimistic. I'll do my year of herceptin; my heart function will stay good enough to not screw that up; and then I'll never have to see the inside of an infusion center ever again, unless I'm visiting someone else who is there.
Oh, and I got to pick up my compression sleeves today, which means that now there is no reason not to exercise. Guess I'll start as soon as that personal trainer shows up.