I'm still alive. My dietician tells me I'm not eating enough, which is probably true, so this week is going to be food week. The problem is that my mouth is so dry that anything resembling a bread product is automatically rejected. My sense of taste is, for all intents and purposes, gone. Everything tastes like low-grade sawdust. My energy level is down, which isn't helping.
The team on the radiology side have got their act together and are handling their set of side effects very well, meaning my pain level is easily tolerable. The chemo side has been a different matter up until I switched oncologists; I picked the one the nurses feared, respected and universally disliked. I met him and consider him a good, regular type guy who happens to be a whole lot smarter than everyone else. Question: how would you handle it if the people you were forced to work with were all retards? Let me amend that question: how do you handle it? Because we've all been there, right?
This morning things aren't too awful bad. We'll see how the day shakes out.
One good thing is that I no longer need Lorazepam (Ativan) to get through my radiology treatment. I'm happy with that.