TRUTH - Cancer sucks and everyone hates it.
Yes.
MYTH - If a cancer patient looks good, they feel good.
Um, no. I put on makeup, a nice outfit, a matching head covering or a cute wig every day and then I smile at people and get things done. That in no way means I feel good. It means that I'm trying not to wallow and give in to the depression that is fighting to claim me.
TRUTH - Chemo can make your eyelashes and eyebrows fall out.
Yup. I avoided this particular sadness for quite some time, but it has reached the point at which putting mascara on does more aesthetic harm than good. I have so few eyelashes that the mascara slips through the gaps and rubs a black smear all over my eyelids. Then I take a q-tip to try to remove it, which just makes my remaining eyelashes stick together into two big, deformed lashes. I quit mascara.
MYTH - Fatigue is the same thing as being tired.
Incorrect. Being tired is what happens when you are short of sleep. Your body needs a little recharge. Being tired can be easily solved by napping or sleeping. Having fatigue is when your body has less energy than normal. You can use that energy reading in bed and occasionally getting up to make a sandwich or by getting dressed, going to work, and attending a few meetings. Either way, the person with fatigue (me) will run out of energy and need to rest. The big difference is that when a person with chemo fatigue wakes up from a nap, they still feel tired and they still have pain and they still feel bummed out that they have cancer. They aren't recharged; they just have a little more energy to try to make it to bed time.
MORAL - Do not ask someone suffering from fatigue if they "feel better" or "feel refreshed" after a nap. They don't.
TRUTH - Paclitaxel (rounds 5-8 drug) causes peripheral neuropathy.
Oh, hell yes it does and it's f-ing horrible. I don't have neuropathy all day long, but when it occurs it interrupts my daily activities and also my ability to feel like there is any happiness left in the world (Harry Potter reference). The pain starts with hundreds of needles poking at my hands or feet, kind of like if your foot was asleep and then blood started flowing regularly to your little piggies. It's bothersome. If I ignore the pain, it goes away in a while. If I continue doing things that exacerbate it then it worsens. Luckily, the types of activities that increase the pain are really unusual and in-frequently encountered. For example: putting lotion on my face, wiping my hands on a towel, holding my steering wheel, feeling something with a lot of texture like a t-shirt or a soft bedsheet, clapping, wearing socks, walking. So, I just avoid doing those things lest the neuropathy move on to the next phase, which is a million mosquitoes biting me at the same time. I can't slap at them, though, or scratch the affected epithelial area or I will move on to the third phase, which is a trillion mosquitoes along with tracker jackers for added pain and the addition of trauma-induced insanity (Hunger Games reference).
MYTH - Wearing ice mittens and ice socks may help prevent peripheral neuropathy.
I have no evidence that there is any validity to this statement. I dutifully and painfully don my ice gear at the beginning of the three-hour infusion, only taking them to swap them for the even colder back-up set we keep in the freezer or if I sense the early signs of frostbite. I still have, as was previously detailed, peripheral neuropathy. So, myth busted. Now that I think about it, though, I did speak with someone whose neuropathy makes his feet numb, making walking difficult and causing several falls. So, maybe my subzero outfit is preventing that?
MYRUTH - The first four treatments are easier than the second four.
This is what they tell you in the oncology office, but it isn't quite black and white so I made it a myruth. It's true that the drugs used in the first half of treatment have worse side effects than the drugs for last four. I have had very little nausea and less-frequent fevers, but the cumulative effects of treatment are no joke. During rounds 1-4, I had:
- Chemo
- A week of terrible
- A couple days of feeling sick, but mostly like myself
- A few days of feeling totally healthy
- Chemo
During rounds 5-8 it's more like:
- Chemo
- A week of being wiped out
- A week of being slightly less wiped out
- Chemo
I never get back to being me or feeling like I'm not sick. Sad face.
(Side note, I accidentally wrote side defects up there instead of side effects. I corrected it, but I feel like I'm probably onto something and it should maybe be absorbed into the medical lexicon. Chemo drugs are designed to kill cancer cells. Anything else they do is a defect. Stupid, defective cyclophosphamide. Try harder.)
