Thank goodness - it seems as if this second round of chemotherapy has not affected me as badly as the first - I suppose knowing what I'm up against has been a big help. The fatigue has not hit me much this time; more a feeling of nausea and unease. The acid reflux has been put under control - I'm so glad I don't need to take that vile concoction that is Gaviscon any longer. It did make me retch. But as I'm paranoid and was worried about burning my esophagus, I took it anyway. Hiccoughs, and metallic taste in the mouth - still there - but they're pretty minor and something I can live with. I've found that the best solution is to not give in too much and stay in bed the whole day - because inevitably, once I'm up, I always feel much better. I suppose sometimes we just need a kick up the a*se or else we're just feeding the feeling of weakness.
Sadly my hair is still falling - I was hoping it may taper off eventually, but no such luck. Am now slowly developing the Prince William/Friar Tuck hairdo - not a look I expect to hit the fashion pages soon. So it's scarf and turban time for me. Sister T and I went out shopping the other day, and as I was shedding hair in the changing rooms each time I tried something on, and as not a lot of clothes call for a turban as a matching accessory, I bought a new roasting tin instead. As you do.
And much as I don't want to sound like a broken record, friends and family have been fantastic. Delicious food has been dropped off nearly everyday (helping me to properly attain Friar Tuck's waistline) and messages of love and support continue to come in. However, I can't seem to help the feeling of despair that has slowly started to creep in. I'm hoping that this is temporary; perhaps once I'm off this chemo fog I will feel better.