AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Sometimes I scream so loud in my head that I'm sure someone will eventually hear me. I'm tired, and it's only round 2.

All of your notes, emails, cards, messages, phone calls, gifts, and prayers are like hundreds of little ropes tied to my body literally pulling me through this. I'm teary-eyed as I type this because I know how much harder this would be without all of you. Please know that I will eventually have the energy to call everyone personally, but until then, I sincerely thank you for everything.

Round 2 has had its ups and downs. It started out with an annoying sore throat, but on the bright side, all of the throat and nasal cultures came back negative. It looks like I'm simply an allergy victim of the cherry blossom trees.

My time on the chemo bag wasn't terrible this cycle. All of the anti-nausea meds did the trick, and the five days seemed to pass fairly quickly. The worst part was getting that central line placed in my neck at the beginning. Ugh, four more times....

The real fun didn't start until after the chemo. During the chemo treatments, I'm given high doses of a steroid called Prednisone. After five days, I'm taken off cold turkey, forcing me into a phenomenon known as the Prednisone crash.

A Prednisone crash essentially feels like you're a hundred years old with the flu and a serious case of PMS. Your whole body feels like it was hit by a truck, and you have no control over emotions at all. In fact, I started writing this post sometime during my Prednisone crash, but I couldn't find the energy to finish and post it.

As of today, I'm in my eleventh day of round two. I made it through March!!!! My nurse called this afternoon with information that my blood work showed that I again went neutropenic (not enough white blood cells to fight off an infection). Unfortunately, my mom woke up this morning with a cold--when it rains, it pours. So now it's finding that careful balance between helping me and not giving me her germs. I think my skin's going to fall off from washing my hands so much.

Ugh, this whole thing just sucks so much. Venting time: I hate not being able to take care of Zachary. I hate being afraid that I'm going to catch something from everyone around me. I hate not knowing what's going to hurt next. I hate disrupting my family members' lives. I hate being on more pills in one day than I've taken in my entire life. The words that are flying through my mind right now are not appropriate to write here.

$/&@ cancer! This is so shitty, but I have to believe it's for a reason.

I've learned a lot about myself and others. The words empathize and compassion carry more meaning. I better understand the value and necessity of community. Having this big problem has eliminated a lot of other problems. Not because they went away, but because they are no longer problems.

So, if my bone pain from the neupogen shots sets in tonight, I'll just be happy that I have a pill to take away the pain. And if Zachary has a hard time going to bed, I'll be happy that I have family here to rock him to sleep while I can't. And if my mind goes back to those dark places, I'll be happy that I have a strong shoulder to cry on and so many words of encouragement to read from my friends.

Before I forget! My cancer staging came back as 2A with no bone marrow invovlement! The A means that I didn't have any symptoms. The 2 means that the tumors are only in a few populations of lymph nodes. We caught it before it could go into any organs. I don't even want to think about how different the stage could have been if it hadn't spread to where I could feel it above my collarbone. The doctor said my biggest tumor was around 8 cm. I hope it's already much smaller.

Marching on...