should do it. He said that this was a “good bad cancer” since it was treatable and survivable.
The day before the chemotherapy started, Chad and I attended a class on chemotherapy. Who knew there was such a class? There we found out the side effects of all the drugs I would be taking.
The first chemotherapy treatment was long. They took their time introducing my body to the chemicals. It wasn’t until the fourth day did I feel a little sick to my stomach. About a week after the treatment my hair started falling out, rather noticeably. I loved my hair but thought it was best to have Chad shave my head. He did, but reluctantly.
It wasn’t until the third treatment did they go full speed with the drugs. Good thing, it meant we wouldn’t have to be there as long. Bad thing was I felt sick for the first week. On top of that, Chad started teaching summer classes. EW was turning 3 the following weekend. We planned an out
door “Noah’s Ark” themed party.
Everything went as well as they could.
Between the fourth and fifth treatment I had a PET (positron emission tomography) scan. Yeah! Halfway through.
My nerves were on edge as I sat waiting to find out what the results of the second PET scan was. The first one showed there were some cancer cells in the diaphragm area. Was the chemotherapy doing it’s job? The doctor walked in and my heart raced to hear the news. Fingers, and toes crossed hoping it would be good news. First, he told us that the cells in the diaphragm were gone. Now for the size of the mass it went from fifteen centimeters to six. It shrunk over half the size. He couldn’t tell us if we would have to continue with the full eight treatments, nor rule out radiation.