The hives are back. And a horrible, horrible thought is creeping into my brain. It may be wine that triggers them. AAAAAAGGGHHHHHHH!!!! It also could be the wigs. And wouldn't that be ironic? But believe me, I'd rather give up the wigs than the wine. If it's the wine...expect a lot of martini talk on the blog soon.
All I know at this point is that after a perfectly nice weekend (I don't wear the wigs on the weekends and only had one glass of wine) feeling really good and getting two great nights of sleep, Monday was not so good. I didn't sleep as well Sunday night and thus was pretty tired Monday. Plus I wore the red wig and it irritated me like crazy (my little trick of trying to dry it post-wash in a way that kept the hair out of my face completely backfired; it's like I dried it especially so the synthetic hairs would seek out my eyes and nostrils and occasionally my mouth.) Then we had the wine tasting Monday night. I've been allergic to red wine for awhile, so I wasn't so foolish as to drink that. I sipped on a couple of different white wines. The day resulted in a night of restless sleep and a morning of red bumps and welt looking things all over the place again. Including on my face! Which is lovely. It's mostly the lower half of my face--my jawline and around my mouth. Yes, pleasant. And attractive. Let's not forget attractive. That's kind of my thing these days.
I calamined myself up (and yeh, that's totally a verb now), piled on the foundation, took a Benadryl and went to work anyway (blond wig with scarf as headband). After all, my blood was required again today at Quest. Another nice experience. I'm telling ya, no one knows of this lab. I wonder how they stay in business?? I walked in, handed them my paperwork, signed, and within two minutes was having my blood drawn. And the woman didn't even flinch at the red spots all up and down my arm. I am however half-expecting that these blood test results are going to show that I'm part alien.
I lasted at work until 4:30. Then I came home and took a two hour nap. Zonked out. Chris made me a very nice omelette for dinner (the only thing that sounded good to me), but now, of course, I have the elephant on my chest indigestion. Basically, just when I thought I was in the smooth sailing part post chemo 2 and pre-chemo 3, I get a day like this. Chemo is really a tricky little bastard. Sneaking up on me all the time. Relentless. And a bit heartless wouldn't you say? So right, I can hardly wait for round 3. I was told by both oncologists that the effects of the chemo would not be cumulative. Really?? Huh. Color me skeptical. And red.
Today I also talked with another patient of Dr. Karam's. She's been recently diagnosed and he put us in touch (she, wisely, asked to speak to another of his patients and I said he could give her my cell number; and she's been to the blog). I don't think I was very helpful though. Oddly, given that I've been blogging for a few months about this now, I don't think I'd ever really focused on what I'd say to someone (god forbid I give advice!!) who'd been recently diagnosed. After all, this blog is shamelessly self-absorbed and all about me. But of course, after I hung up the phone I thought of a million things I wish somebody had told me that I could have told her. I think the most useful thing I told her was that no one had told me I had to stop drinking wine, since "my" cancer is not hormone receptive (remember my 0 score?). Hers isn't either, so she was ecstatic with this news. And wisely wants it verified (Dr. Karam--you'll need to step in here! I'm not one to give medical advice--I'm like an oncologist in that regard). Anyway, when I feel better (and oddly, that will probably be this weekend...when I get the steroid high with the chemo), I think I may just have to do a list of things I'd say to a newly diagnosed breast cancer patient. Maybe. But she's in good hands for now. She's got the perfect surgeon. Maybe I should have just told her not to read the blog post about my trip to nuclear medicine on surgery day? No, then again, she should read it so awful masochist Larry does not scare her too. Oh, and I should have warned her about those very scary palm trees on the computer monitors. See? I can't even be helpful, let along inspirational!! I'll work on that. Just as soon as I'm done scratching my face off. Oh, and after my Benadryl coma.