November 30, 2007
The grumpy part comes, O Best Beloveds, from the news that my makers went up a point this month. Statistically meaningless, Steve observes, but since down is much preferred to up, Dr. W. is conversely upping my chemo dose (all too recently reduced to five pills a day; will now take five pills one week, and six the other week), just in case. This is precisely the opposite of what I had hoped, which was for enough of a move downward so that I could even maybe take off a week from chemo so that my feet would be something like normal, or at least, more usable, in time for Egypt. Certainly, even just this brief time of a lower chemo dose has helped some; there’s less peeling, somewhat less tingling, and the spontaneous cuts on my finger tips less frequent. Still a lot of neuropathy, but what can you do? Apparently nothing; this is what I’m stuck with. Plus, this particular Cancer: Extended Dance Remix has been going on long enough that I’m running out of new things to say about it. It’s up, it’s down, it’s sideways–don’t get me wrong, it’s a hell of a lot better than just having straight ahead bad news, and any Cancer Chick who is going to Egypt really has very little to complain about, but sheesh already. So, I’m grumpy.
Then again, I just recalled I have a drawer full of British chocolate and that it is excellent for improving my disposition.
Candy is dandy,