What’s Chemotherapy Like?

There are some things about chemo that don’t get passed on from clinics on a regular basis. If you have more tips, please reach out to me via the Contacts tab at the top of this page.

Every chemo and every body are different, so it would be helpful to run these by your doctor or nurse navigator before starting. That said, here are my tips:

1.       Being a cancer patient can feel like being a human pin cushion sometimes. If you have a chemo port, doctors almost always prescribe EMLA cream (lidocaine/prilocaine) to numb the area. Why do they not prescribe it if the veins in your arms are getting jabbed frequently? I have asked each of my oncologists prescribe it. Place a quarter-sized dollop over the vein you want poked, then put a large bandage (about 2”x3”) over it to hold it in place for about 45 minutes to an hour before an injection. You can also use cling wrap instead of bandages. I always look away, and half the time I don’t even know when the needle has been inserted. When they give the injection, ask the nurse to recommend a site for your next injection so you know where to put the cream.

2.       If constipation is one of the side effects of your chemo,  you don’t want to try to play catch-up. Start the stool softener a day or two before you have chemo and start Senna the night before. There’s a wide dose range you can take of the Senna so the first time will take some guesswork on your part. You know your body.

3.       If you have trouble eating enough food, the best calorie replacement option I have found is Ensure Plus, which has a lot more calories than Ensure. There are plenty of other options out there, including some specifically for diabetics.

4.       If your taste buds are damaged by the chemo, they will come back. You can help them along by something my Integrative Medicine doc recommended that I haven’t heard of anywhere else: Liquid  folic acid. It nurtures your taste buds, kind of like fertilizing your lawn, only in a healthy way. Take a teaspoon full and swish 15 seconds each on the left, right, front, and back of your tongue, swallow it, then no food or drink for 20-30 minutes. Use it twice a day, every day throughout the chemo cycle.

5.       I use compression socks the day of chemo and for 2-3 days after, which is as long as the chemo remains in your system. This is to prevent the chemo from pooling around your feet to decrease peripheral neuropathy (numbness and tingling in hands and feet). If you get compression socks, watch a Youtube video about how to put them on to save yourself from a wrestling match.

6.       This next one was recommended to me after I finished chemo, so I can’t give you my first-hand impressions. You can use ice socks and ice gloves to prevent peripheral neuropathy by putting them on for 15 minutes/off for 15 minutes throughout the time you’re having your infusion. Some people bring a cooler to keep spare ice packs and keep them cool during the “off” cycle. The idea is to constrict the blood vessels in your hands and feet to limit chemo exposure. I get the concept but wonder how well it works since the chemo remains in your system for 2-3 days.

7.       A close cousin to ice socks and gloves, which I also haven’t tried, is the ice cap. Restricting the flow of blood to the scalp may reduce the chances of hair loss from chemo. Again, I wonder how this works since the chemo stays in your system long after the infusion is finished. You may be able to find them in a drugstore, and you can definitely find them on Amazon using the search term “Ice gloves (or socks or cap) for chemotherapy.”

8.       Find out how long your time in the clinic will be and plan to keep yourself entertained and fed for however long that is. Some people bring their own lap blanket, which isn’t a bad idea, particularly if you’re using ice socks and gloves.

I’ve had chemo ranging from almost no side effects (a little fatigue, not much taste in any foods) to much harsher. Below is the example from my first chemo, which is harsher than most people ever get.

Day 1: Chemo infusion with steroids x 5 hours. Ho hum, read a few carefully selected magazines, work on laptop, chat with new chemo buddies.

Day 2: Back to work. (It's Friday.) Energy good almost all day,food tastes a little funny.

Day 3: Golf (Par 3 course): First 9 - Great, Back 9 - Semi-horrible (same pattern both chemo cycles!). Tired.... bed early... The steroids have worn off.

Day 4: Food tastes like a rusty spoon left in the yard all winter, then used to scrape the gunk in the bottom of a planter. Nausea gratefully dispelled by meds and sleeping most of the day.

Day 5: Back to work and gym, hanging on at work for 3 hours, then sleeping most of the next 18 hours. Less nausea, but the rusty spoon lives.

Day 6: Giddy optimism returns, selective foods taste great. Use spatula to get the last of the Fettuccine Alfredo sauce out of the bowl. Lick the bowl. And the spatula.

Days 7-14: Decreasing fatigue, increasingly normal taste buds.

Day 14: Hair starts falling out!!!!!!!!! False sense of security dashed!!!!! Embarrassment at the gym!!!!!

Day 15-20: Piles of hair floating down the drain at the gym. White (naturally) towels are then filled with black hair and discretely chucked in the bin. Vacuum the pillows and sofa every night to avoid dreams of sleeping with Big Foot.

Day 21: New cycle. Repeat from Day 1 UNTIL....

Day 25: ABANDON THIN HAIR CHARADE!!!!!!! SHAVE HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!

Day 26: Get "Bald Power Solidarity" right arm salute from 3 bald guys and two thinning hair guys at work. 3 women at work (and two men) tell me I have a shapely head. I'm trying not to let it go... to.... my.... (for those of you who know me too well, forgive me going for the way-too- obvious punch line.)

Actually, being bald is more fun, at least as a novelty, than I had imagined. Placing my hand on my head is like being stuck to Velcro, so I can entertain myself. It is also a much stronger look than a wispy massive comb-over, so I'm wearing it with pride. A great benefit is that it makes it easier for me to choose whom I tell that I'm having chemo, which helps prevent the dreaded pathetic "I'm so sorry" looks. (I LOVE the people who can see how lucky I am to catch it early, rather than focusing on a victim's outlook.) I can also lie and tell people my Olympic team is all doing this to show team unity.