Cancer Chronicle
It could be said that waiting to start chemo was one of the hardest things to do. The cancer center suggested I find a probate lawyer and executor, draw up a living and regular will, and make plans. The chemo couldn't get started over the holidays, because of staff shortages, so will start after the first. Turns out that's great because I have a $6,000 deductible which I won't have to meet twice.
In the meantime, I must also decide whether I want to try cryogenics. The chemo affects how the blood flows to your extremities, apparently: two significant outcomes are losing my hair (all of it, everywhere) and getting neuropathy in my feet and hands. Hair loss is temporary; neuropathy will stay with me forever. You can stave off these outcomes by applying ice--so you can rent a cap from a nonprofit agency to keep your head cool during chemo infusion, and you can stick your hands and feet into ice. The cap rental costs about $3500, and it's experimental and may only save some of my hair. I don't mind losing it if I get it back, so I decide to go without it. (Actually, in the state of mind I was in, I ordered the cap and by the time it came, I sent it back right away.) I also ordered some hats to cover my skull, but more of that later.
As to my feet and hands, I decided to go with ice. Unfortunately, that decision didn't get to stick.
It could be said that waiting to start chemo was one of the hardest things to do. The cancer center suggested I find a probate lawyer and executor, draw up a living and regular will, and make plans. The chemo couldn't get started over the holidays, because of staff shortages, so will start after the first. Turns out that's great because I have a $6,000 deductible which I won't have to meet twice.
In the meantime, I must also decide whether I want to try cryogenics. The chemo affects how the blood flows to your extremities, apparently: two significant outcomes are losing my hair (all of it, everywhere) and getting neuropathy in my feet and hands. Hair loss is temporary; neuropathy will stay with me forever. You can stave off these outcomes by applying ice--so you can rent a cap from a nonprofit agency to keep your head cool during chemo infusion, and you can stick your hands and feet into ice. The cap rental costs about $3500, and it's experimental and may only save some of my hair. I don't mind losing it if I get it back, so I decide to go without it. (Actually, in the state of mind I was in, I ordered the cap and by the time it came, I sent it back right away.) I also ordered some hats to cover my skull, but more of that later.
As to my feet and hands, I decided to go with ice. Unfortunately, that decision didn't get to stick.