ROUND 2

I had my second round of Chemo last week. It wasn't as bad as before but that's like saying Stalin wasn't as evil as Hitler. Still one has to celebrate the small things. The days following Chemo you do feel like you've gone a few rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson. You're knocked out before the ref counts to 1. But this time I think I got in a small punch of my own. I've bounced back a little quicker and the side effects haven't been all that life-squashing. 

My taste buds seem to be the hardest hit. I simply cannot taste deliciousness or yumminess of any kind. I can taste onion. So that's what I've been eating. Last night I had 3 roasted onions for dinner. My brother tells me onion is good. It  prevents cancer. Smiley face. 

I do have some news. 
When I first started this blog I mentioned that I'd had an Oncotype test. Basically, minus the scientific mumbo jumbo, it tests the chances of your cancer returning and how your cancer will respond to Chemo. When I was first tested my score was low. A mere 10. I chose to do Chemo anyway because my doctors questioned the result. My Oncotype score was retested. And it came back high. 32. Turns out one can have a Sybil of a tumor. A cancer with multiple personality disorder. Luckily she's already on the couch, having therapy with Dr Chemo. 

I'm doing 4 rounds of Chemo. So I am halfway through. Whoop. And nog a pip. I would have celebrated with Champagne and a funny hat but bed, sleep and pain meds seemed a better party. I can sort of make out a hazy light at the end of a long, dark, Annus Horribilis of a tunnel. To those who endure 6 or 8 rounds of this poison. I tip my cancer cap to you all. Respect. 

http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/testing/types/oncotype_dx

CHEMOSABI

A week ago I received a call from my oncologist. 

Well let me start at the beginning. Two weeks ago I received a call from my Oncologist. The call was sugar and spice and all things champagne. My Oncoytpe score had come back low. I wasn't going to need Chemo!!! And I'll throw in a few more for dramatic effect !!!!!!. Huge relief, Elaine dance and the aforementioned bubbly. 

Last week's call: Slugs and snails and Doberman/Pitbull tails. 

Turns out I do need Chemo after all. 

I'm not going to go into the long story of why. Just to say that I have a brilliant Oncologist and Pathologist and when they say jump, I say:"Shave it off Fredrik."

This blog will be my Chemo journey. I'm hoping I'll handle it with humor, grace and Wonder Woman strength. I'm hoping to vomit like a super model: no splatter, just pretty little chunks of apple eaten 2 days ago. I'm hoping to be white like Amanda Seyfried, not Casper. I'm hoping to carry off bald ala Natalie Portman rather than Telly Savalas. But if I have moments of pity, loathing, depression and Niagara Falls, so be it. It's Chemo biyatches, not a beach vacation in Miami.