Round One.

I'm starting this on Wednesday, Feb 9 at 7:30 p.m., the evening of my first chemo treatment. Whew, long day. Let's get down to business. (Did anyone else just start singing?!) 

My day started at three this morning. Not by choice, but because my brain woke up thinking, "hey, it's time to be awake!" Therefore, I was awake. I binged some Gilmore Girls and ate some snacks. I lived my best life. 8:00a.m. rolled around, and it was time to act like I had my life together. 

Chemotherapy education class started and it was great. I figured it would be fluffy and mostly for legal purposes, but it was valuable and Lori was very explanatory about each side effect that I possibly could have; fatigue, nausea, dry skin, troubles with my liver, and the big dinger, hair loss. 

While I had knew it was probably coming, I vainly hoped to keep my precious locks. "You're gonna lose your hair, Chlo." Her voice cracked, my parents deeply sighed, and my shouldered slumped. What else to say but okay? I'm not sure. 2-3 weeks. That's what I've got left with my fresh haircut. And yes, I did just get my haircut with the sole intent of chopping weight off in order to delay the process of it coming out. I've got two weeks until my twentieth birthday, and I'm hoping to make it to then with no issues. Surely that's not too much to ask. 

Following education class was round 1/12 of chemotherapy. It started with a little poke in my port, and from there, four bags of medicine coupled with about five hours of sitting. Each bag came with a little different thing happening. Overall, it went well. I was able to nap and read and do a puzzle book. The worst part was during one bag of medication, I was instructed to eat ice chips the whole 20 minutes. Just typing that I got a bit nauseous. Water doesn't taste the same now. Hopefully in two weeks I'll be able to eat ice without feeling like throwing up. 

Thursday A.M. came, which meant a bone marrow biopsy. Maybe I was just spoiled, but let me tell you something. This wasn't Dr. True or Dr. Conard or Jodi. I missed my crew at Unity. Everyone involved with the biopsy was nice enough, but it just wasn't them. And if you've never had one of these done, don't. Not recommended. When they said pressure, they meant pain. And believe me, I feel like a wimp for saying I was in pain. The whole procedure took a whopping four minutes. Four minutes and I cried and flinched. Four minutes. I didn't make it four minutes without crying. Apparently it's somewhat normal, but I still feel wimpy. We shall just continue to pray and hope for the results to come back clean so we never have to do it again. 

So far, and it's Friday evening now, I'm not feeling many side effects of chemo. I'm tired, but my sleep schedule as been off. I'm not necessarily nauseous (unless I'm thinking about that ice!), but I'm not hungry either. The edges of my tongue are numb -- like, you know how you sip on hot coffee and it's *too* hot and you're tongue loses it's taste sensation for a hot minute? It's like that, except it hasn't gone away. I'll take the numbness over the potential mouth sores that have been discussed. 

Tomorrow I'm going to get measured for a wig. I'm taking my best boo with me to deal with this. I am wholeheartedly not looking forward to it. However, one must prepare for this losing of hair thing, and that includes getting measured for a wig. One step at a time. One day at a time. 

So that's this week. That's what's happening. That's what my brain looks like right now.