Chemotherapy: a survival guide.

Ok. I'm writing this as I try to go to sleep the night after receiving my third round of chemotherapy. This is meant as a survival guide not only for those who are cursed to go through chemotherapy, but also those who have to attempt to deal with those going through chemotherapy. Now, let me say this first. Just as there are many different types of cancer, there are also many different types of chemotherapy and different intensities and durations of chemotherapy. I can only speak to the type of chemotherapy that has been given to me to combat the specific type of cancer I am battling, which is the C.H.O.P-R. treatment for a variant of non-hodgkins lymphoma. That's as deep as I will delve into it, because hell...I cannot even pronounce, much less spell the 5 chemicals they are pumping into my body. I go once every three weeks, for a total of 6 treatments. Each treatment last between 4 and a half to 6 hours. So that's the boring explanatory portion of the survival guide. Now to the fun part.

Everyone asks me, "What's it like to go through chemo?"..."Do you feel like you're drunk, or stoned or tripping?". No...I friggin wish. Then it might actually be something I looked forward to. I really think the government should allow some mind-altering agent to be given along with the standard chemicals...but I digress. Before I answer those questions, allow me to explain my thinking on how the chemicals futz with your brain. The chemicals used to attack the cancer are essentially toxic chemicals. Now, these chemicals are designed to attack the fastest growing cells in the body, because the fastest growing cells are the cancer cells. So, one might think that they don't effect any cells other than the cancer cells. But, that would be wrong, because it also attacks hair folicles, because thay are also fast growing cells, thus the baldness associated with chemo. So, I've come to the conclusion that it also has some (at the very least temoporary, if not permanent effects) on brain cells as well. As I've racked my brain to answer the question of how it feels to undergo chemotherapy, there's no easy answer. The generally accepted answer in the Chemo club is "chemo brain". But that really explains nothing. Some of the words or phrases I've used to describe the feeling are "icky", "removed", or "autopilot", or "you just feel like you've had chemicals running through your brain all day". But none of those seemed right. So, as I was trying to get to sleep tonight, I decided to quantify the feelings, and this is what I've come up with.

The term I think fits it best is "detached". From the minute you get out of the very comfortable recliner you've been in for the last 6 hours getting the juice, you feel like your brain has been shut off. Or, more so like you're brain is functioning from off site somewhere and relaying simple commands for your body to function. You think, but you can't think too much. You can't be expected to make any sort of decisions in the 24 hours after chemo. If you are forced to think too much it will give you a headache. But, even that's not right, because in this state your brain cannot even to be expected to come to a decision on whether you actually have a headache or not! So, I just typically take a percoset...just in case I do have a headache.

Holding a conversation with someone after chemo is not an easy task either. I'm told all the time that I seem distracted. Well, I really think my brain is simply trying to grasp what is being sent to it on such a rudementary level that is struggles to keep up. I usually just answer, "Sorry...chemo brain".

People going through chemo...lemme just give you a tip: for the 24 hours after chemo...become a vegetable. Don't do anything that you have to really think about or you will only cause yourself grief, and then argue with yourself for 3 hours on whether or not you have given yourself a headache. I would simply suggest sleep. I spent 3 hours tonight flipping back and forth between modern marvels on the history channel, and mythbusters on discovery. When I finally turned off the TV, my head was literally hot, and I had broken into a sweat. I think I overheated my brain. I expected a tiny radiator cap to shoot off my head...followed my a geyser of steam. But even after that, I could not sleep. So here it is, 4am, and I'm writing this...fuck me.

So I guess my advice for those of you trying to deal with us tired souls going through chemo...just give up on the 24 hours directly after chemo. We suck during this time, and you really shouldn't frustrate yourself.

Couple last bit of news. As this was my third treatment, we will redo all the tests and scans that we did before we started. This will determine where we are in the treatment, how well the cancer is responding, and whether we have this thing kicked into remisison. If it is responding well, we may not have to do all 6 of the tratments as previously planned. Regardless of how many treatments we do, 3 weeks after the final treatment, I will begin the process of the stem cell, (or bone marrow) transplant.

And finally, for those of you interested in donating platelets, there is no way to coordinate a platelet drive in the traditional sense. So, you need to call Atlanta Blood Services at Northside Hospital at (404)459-8744. When you call, say that you are donating the platelets for Lucas Johnson. This way, (unlike the red cross) the platelets can go directly to me if I need them. Platelets only have a shelf-life of 5 days.

Anyhoo, I hope this didn't bore the shit out of you. And I hope maybe it explained a little of what I've been going through. And maybe...just maybe it might explain why when I talk to some of you I have a blank look on my face and steam coming out of my ears.