In a zone. Everything in slo mo. That, plus I am bombed outta my wits. I could probably give a narcoleptic stiff competition right about now, just dropping off to sleep in the middle of reading things, posts on MPIP, etc. My eyes are so lame and weak I have literally felt them cross toward my nose as I have tried to focus on something...or even more horrifically, someone, when they are hoping to hold my attention.Just flat out pooped, to put it mildly.
Well. I ended up finally getting that 4th bag of IL-2 last night at 10:00pm. However, not long after that, I started getting the rigors. Got a bit chilly, then the next thing I know I was shaking uncontrollably almost as if I was having a convulsion. Annoying to say the least. AAANNND, it made all my bone mets scream out in harmony with pain. Fun, it was NOT.
But the nurse came in with some Demerol and it worked within minutes to control this absymal "fit" of the shakes.
Overnight, I was dragged outta bed in a half doped up still not quite half awake zombified state to be weighed. Since I had been having some bizarro twilight zone material type dreams, this huge assed contraption they have to weigh the patients freaked me out, no lie. "We Just want to weigh you, that's all" the nurse said, calmly.
My eyes poppped out of their sockets when I saw that I had gained 12 pounds in water weight gain already. My eyes are so puffy they are almost squeezed shut. Lord.
My O2 saturation was a little low, so I had to be put on oxygen for a few hours, which didn't make too much difference to me, even though under normal circumstances, having those two hard plastic prongs stuck up your nostrils is annoying at best, it was the buttcrack of dawn, so I figured I could go back to sleep and sleep through this less than stellar shit.
Oh...and my heart rate was near 150, so I had to skip bag 5 too...
Damn it all.
Okay. I absolutely have to lay here all zen like in a state of meditation, trying not to move around too much and trying not to get too agitated, because if I do even one little thing, this touchy little bastard that to you would look like an ordinary portable heart monitor will show numbers that jump from 115 (which is still way too high for me!!) all the way up to 148-150). UGH. I have to keep these heartrate numbers down so I can get my next IL-2 dose which is scheduled for 2:00 pm.
I have far too many tumors lurking about that need their comeupance, and I plan on getting as much of this IL-2 into my system as is humanly possible for me, anyway.
Hopefully it will OBLITERATE IT!
I am holding my breath.
8 comments:
I've been following you, but have never written. I am amazed by you.
Bloggin' while taking IL-2?
Dude, WTF??
If that ain't the balls, I don't know what is! You are one cool cat!
Wishing you all the bags you could ever hope for.
+++
From a gal in NYC.
Hey Shannon,
You have such a way with words. I'm glad to hear that the staff is so attentive to you. Sounds like you made the right decision in staying close to home.
As the "gal in NYC" said...I'm wishing you all the bags you could ever hope for too!
Love you sweet lady!
Amy Jo
Dear Shannon,
I'm holding my breath with you that by now you have started bag 5. I am so glad you were able to do 4. However, remember, no matter how many bags you do, you are SUPERB! I'm serious as all get out. To go into IL 2 with all the pain you've been dealing with on a daily basis and keep those fighting gloves thrusting out and your humor in tact is nothing short of PHENOMENAL. Love, Carver
How can you make such good sense? Holy Cow, I don't even make as much sense as you are and I haven't even had my nightly ration of wine!
I hope you showed that touchy little bastard heart rate-o-meter who just WHO is in control.
And I hope that NUMBER 5 is going down real good right about now.
Gulp, gulp...take that Nasty Mel.
Love ya, Sweet Girl.
PS Love the Beagle. A hound after my own heart. : )
Doin' good, girl, doin' good...I can't believe you can blog so well with everything that is occuring..you are AMAZING! Bag #5 coming up...
love,
sue
Everyone of my waking moments I am praying for you. You are so worthy of success. I know how tough you are; have you tried to envision the bastard invader and send your own conquering troops after it (imaging)?
When I was so sick that is what I did sort of a self hypnosis. I would lie quietly (as if there was anything else that I could do on that chemo)and I would envision the healing water of a pure turquoise color washing me and cleansing the bad stuff away. I would breath deep and the beautiful turquoise would come in with my breath and the nasties would leave my body when I exhaled. It would start at my toes and work it's way up. Kinda hard to decribe in a post but give it a try (like chicken soup, can't hurt)maybe you can do some damage to your invader too.
Mike and I are keeping you and the family in our prayers and thoughts. We love you Kiddo.
Your favorite Auntie Karen and Uncle Mikey
Don't hold your breath - your O2 will drop again, silly. "If that ain't the balls, I don't know what is!" ain't that the truth. HOly Smokes!
Really, don't worry about the numbers, it's how your body reacts. Not the number of bags. If you start to think you can't keep going, put it in the doctor's hands. My husband's feeling that he needs to stop or skip a dose always match up with what the doctors say.
That's funny about the scale. It is freaky. The big rumbling thing while your sleeping and a bunch of people coming in. It is a bit scary.
Finally, try getting them to give you pain meds about an hour before infusion. That helps with the joint pain and rigors some.
-Katrina
happy valentines day my love
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