start where you are (or whatever those books say)

 hey. i know how long it's been since writing. i wish it had just been depression keeping me away from updating you (and i'm not excluding that entirely), but unfortunately, it's been symptoms and changes and not wanting to put into writing any of the icky stuff.

so here's where i am: it seems the weekly taxol did a good job of reducing the abdominal fluid. the paracentisis i had last week drained well under one liter, and it had been over 2 weeks since the prior one. 

and i would have been more hopeful except for the fact that i was having so many problems just you know, eating. that thing where your stomach doesn't empty properly (gastroparesis) was happening, which was so uncomfortable. i'd eat only a few bites of something and it would just sit there on my chest for hours. 

breakfast would be ok because my stomach had had the night before to rest and work things through. and even lunch could be ok. but past 5 pm, all bets of comfortable eating were off. it started to get worse. 

i was on Cape Cod with the husband, just for 2 nights, invited by a friend, but had to leave the day after arriving because basically, i couldn't eat anything -- or take any medication -- without throwing up. so unpleasant!! 

last thursday was my regularly scheduled weekly chemo, so i went in and told the NP what was happening. my onc came in and they talked and thought i might have a "kink" in my bowels (like a kink in a hose i guess), and that i should be admitted to the hospital. most of the time, rest and a reservoir of water/fluids, and these things (thing = partial bowel obstruction) work themselves out. 

BUT.  the scan they took in the hospital revealed cancer progression instead ! fml, seriously. you simply could not write a believable script where more shitty things happen to your heroine, right? right. so essentially, the taxol took care of the abdominal fluid, but now more cancer is surrounding the lining of my stomach and "encroaching" on my liver. i can't even with that word "encroaching," you know? but anyway. 

what a crushing blow, right? sometimes it still doesn't feel real. and it especially doesn't feel real when delivered by an overenthusiastic, overachiever, 12-year ER doc. but ok, now we obvioulsy need to change course. i'm due to start a new chemo on friday. WHY NOT SOONER? omg i wish i knew, but it *is* Boston's Holy Grail Marathon Week so there are fewer days for scheduling. 

the new chemo isn't acutally that new. we're going to re-introduce Carboplatin, one of the two drugs I had the first time around in 2019 and then again after my first recurrence in 2020. Platinum drugs are the big guns for so many cancers. 

wait, andi, didn't you develop an allergy to it in 2020, and didn't you have to go into the hospital during a pandemic and get it delivered to you over the course of 12 hours with a nurse watching you the whole time in case you went into anaphylactic shock? oh yes, that's the one. 

wait andi, didn't it not work 100% in 2020, you know like, not bring you to remission or whatever? also yes. BUT i guess you can re-intro these platinum drugs if your body hasn't had them in a while, and there's a decent chance they will work. And well you know, decent is what i so seriously need at the moment. 

i will still need to spend a 12-hr day in a hospital bed having a nurse watch me. but hopefully this time the Carbo will kick mightier ass. I really need it to. 

until then, i'm camped out in the hideous recliner we bough waaaay back in 2019 thinking it'd be good for a recovering abdominal surgery patient. and it was. right now it's the only way i can sleep, because lying flat in my regular bed makes me wake up choking and barfing. 

i don't want to mention the barfing, because who likes to conjure up the image of their once-vibrant friend walking around their house with a gray plastic barf tray in case the meds or the nutrition shakes or the tea or whatever don't go all the way down? 

i will mention the food aspect though because you guys, i am starving. i am losing a lot of weight and if you know me, you know i have a lot to spare, so this is good, but even now, i'm edging into scary (for me) territory: so long, fantastically large butt! hahaha, but seriously. i just have to eat soft foods and liquids and things my stomach won't have a hard time trying to digest, because the cancer cells surrounding the lining make it difficult for my stomach to expand and contract the way a stomach normally would. 

so yeah, this is not an image i wanted to give you: being held hostage by a Bob's Discount recliner while my stomach is held hostage by Grade A Top Performing cancer cells. counting the days until Friday. And hoping beyond hope the platinum drug will do what it can do best. trying not to think beyond that. 

if you are reading this, i love you and i'm scared. more scared than the last time i told you i loved you and was scared. i'm angry and tired and exasperated and you know what else? i'm totally taking it personally (i'm looking at you, universe). even with all i scientifically, intellectually, medically know about the random nature of such things, this particular string of bad luck feels insanely personal.