Therapy - Round 2

I almost was looking forward to going in. After a 3-day bout of antibiotics in hospital during week 1 of recovery at home, I felt an enormous change in my energy levels. Even after the first 5 hours after antibiotics, I felt an big change in how ill I felt. This was a turning point. Sure, I would feel shit after the 5 days of chemotherapy and 2 weeks recovery at home, but not again would I feel that enormous tiredness as the aforementioned mother of jetlags during the therapy.

 

One evening, couple of days before I had to go in for round 2, and with a slight belief of keeping my hair, a weird sensation of tingling appeared up top. Similar to the weird tingling I used to have when I was in my younger years, lovely flowing locks that would tingle when too long in a ponytail. Except I was no longer in my younger years. Ah, balls.

 

The next morning... one rub of the palm of my hand over my head... and it was raining hair. Nope! Off to the hairdressers the next day. If the hair was going to go, it was to be my decision. So we had a little fun, before cropping all the way down.

 


During the first week in hospital and week at home, I realised that getting hooked on watching a Netflix series wasn‘t helping in feeling awesome. „Luther“, the series starring Idris Elba as a London detective on the hunt for this week’s mass murderer was devoured like a junkie on crack. That time infront of a screen and sitting on one’s arse wouldn‘t feel good when feeling healthy.


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The second week in, I concentrated way more on the question of writing my own music, and challenging myself to get things done by myself. Getting to grips with hard disc-recording and recording some music. I kept up a high output on little snippets of music, recorded in Garageband, after much watching of online videos on this topic. Practicing scales and songs, some meditation, some absolute bouts of face-stuffing, no doubt due to the chemicals I was being given, and walks and face-stuffing made up a large chunk of the day.
This is where I used a little more of the meditations of Dr. Joe Dispenza. It was very strange to feel this shift in mindset instantly.

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I also was getting to know a few of the other patients on the ward. 2 of who have a plate full of challenges heavier than mine. My perspective changed to where I felt almost guilty of having a good prognosis as far as the therapy was concerned. Getting into the right mindset of healing during the infusions were, in my eyes, a must. Very wary respects and wishes of healing and few injuries were always spoken every time I was hooked up. The time, patience and necessary time alone made this pretty easy. I had a job to do, which was to get healthier. When your son tells you to ‘put some effort into it’… it’s another wake-up call. Siren. One more to not be complacent.

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Cycle 2’s recovery at home consisted, once again, of a first week of sleepless nights, mouth sores and face-stuffing. Face bloated due to excess water and face-stuffing gained me 8 kg. Getting into that Buddha-Look.

 


End of the week saw a big upturn in health. I could walk longer, spend more time concentrating and doing some work. And recording. Hit repeat.
This is also the time I had my first CAT-Scan and PET-Scan to check on the metabolism of sugar in bad cell activity areas. The result would decide on if 2 or 4 more cycles of chemotherapy were needed. I was prepared for both scenarios as I was feeling pretty confident of the result. It actually turned out really good. No new cell activity. The lymphs were still swollen in a large cluster near the lungs but way smaller than when first scanned. The balance of these fist fights within my lymphs was leaning more to the good guys, according to the script. 
It’s gross so I advise on skipping the next sentence but you probably won‘t: piss and shit out those bad cells. Bye bye bad guys. The party’s over. Exit left. If this can help in any placebo-effect way… what the hell! Who‘s gonna judge me? (next - Round 3)