tl;dr: Just staying up until PET scan. Last meal involved packing too much stuff into too small of a window and I felt like crap for an hour or so. Any time I even lightly touch my hair, at least one will come loose. PET scan showed some remaining activity in the biggest tumors, but they're mostly scar tissue now. May have stomach flu, not sure. Mouse is acting weird. No more Cheerios, I think.
July 11: I've pretty much given up on trying to fix my sleep schedule. I stayed up 2 days and all I got out of it was falling asleep again after sleeping the first time. There was a suggestion to speak/type nicely and "at least act positive" to see if it works but all it got me was someone in a chat telling me I act gay, so fuck it. Did my lifting, gonna eat up the last of my perishables before the fast starts on Monday if I can. Without all of the extra DEX swell, I've identified some of the possible causes of pain and additional swelling I may not have noticed otherwise. That lump in my vein from #3 has siblings in my left food and knee, and they hurt. For all I know, there may be some in my neck causing all the fuckery. I think #4 has one forming, too. I'll have to ask about them, maybe we can dissolve them or something. Maybe one will break off and give me a pulmonary embolism or turn me into a vegetable or something. I dunno, starting to not care much. Noticed I've been waking up in that tilted-right-side position repeatedly again. I thought the lump in my neck got smaller, but it's about the same size it was last time. The area keeps swelling, likely due to lymph blockage. It's very uncomfortable around the sites in general, moving obviously helps it a bit. The pain in my right jaw may only partially be TMD, and I think some of it may be the back tooth that keeps bothering me on and off throughout this entire thing.
July 12: My hair is so thin. I forgot about the "no workouts 24 hours before a PET scan" thing, so hopefully my lifting at the end of Saturday is far enough away from it that it won't fuck it up too much. When you work out, your muscles suck up more glucose (and friends) which can make the scan unreliable and harder to read since it depends so much on measuring glucose uptake by the cancerous cells. I'm still sore in some places, so I'll have to warn them. Also hoping my last meal won't affect it; it should just hit the 6 hour-ish mark they ask for, but I did have a lot. It'd be better if they didn't schedule it so early as it fucks with my rhythm in multiple ways, and the fast schedule is just one. I did eat a lot, felt like shit for an hour or so since my lower digestive system is still rebelling when anything passes through it. Lost another big handful of hair and I look like shit in general. Getting that familiar crunch and stiffness in my neck tendons that was so prevalent when the tumors were big. Heart's been doing the tachycardia thing on and off, usually at the same time every day, interestingly, and it's the same timeframe that used to make me nauseous before the whole lymphoma thing, so I've had about 3 Naproxen throughout #4.
No idea if the chemo is even working anymore. If it's not, looks like I can't even be granted the dignity of dying while looking like myself. That petechiae on my jaw never really went away, keep finding small ones in the soft tissue around my eyes. Had a nosebleed randomly a while ago, but it was when it was cold and I had the space heater on which always dries everything out so I dunno if it's from that or not. Knowing my luck I'll have leukemia or something on top of this.
Roomie notified me 2 days late that I had some phone calls. One was from a pediatrician at a children's hospital for unknown reasons, if the name is the same doctor. The other was from my job. I don't know if I even have a job or not anymore. Wouldn't be able to work in my state anyway since I could barely manage going there even back before the affliction took over to a greater degree. Hard to be enthusiastic about "getting better" when what's waiting outside the cancer bubble is just more stress and hopeless bullshit. My one mouse's own cancer has progressed to the point where they're fatter than she is, which isn't very much anymore due to all the crap it draws out of her. Her back leg can't reach the ground anymore and she obviously tires more easily. She seems cheerful and energetic otherwise, still.
July 13: Time to get pumped full of radioactive bullshit through another horrible IV feed. Last time they ran a cycle with saline that made me cold, then I had to sit in a dark room drinking a contrast in water that tasted like coated paper. Didn't happen this time, dunno why. Asked, nurse didn't know why either. It was scheduled right in that few hours where I feel the worst and my head isn't working right, so it was less pleasant than the first scan, too. The saline/glucose cycle actually made me feel like I was edging nausea. Passed out some time after I got home. Had a weird feeling of extreme peace later in the day that was probably a result of the complete ebb of extreme stress earlier.
July 14: "Do you want to continue treatment?" Tired of hearing that question. The answer is always no, saying yes would be a lie. Got stabbed again, the nurse had some trouble finding a place to take a sample from since my veins are already scarred from all the fucking needless stabbing. Once again, I asked why they don't just take the blood sample before the PET scan. It's all bureaucracy, if the paper doesn't specifically ask for it then they won't do it regardless of how much sense it makes. The nurses said to bring it up with the doc since they readily agreed and said it was a good idea; considering how quickly and assiduously they answered, I got the impression this was something long discussed but never implemented by the system. I left a note for the onc, but I doubt anything will come of it. No one gives a s hit and it's easier to just go by the books and keep doing shit the way they're used to. The square wheel isn't technically broken, so even though a round wheel would work much better, there's no need to fix it.
The onc did let me see the text version of my scan results. The tumors started at around 7-8cm at the largest in my chest, and they're down to around 6cm. That may not sound like much, but most of it is scar tissue now instead of cancer, including the unchanging one in my neck. That one's apparently dead and it's also just scar shit. There's still activity in the biggest ones that's slightly above the metabolizing in my liver, so doc says I'll likely need more. More fucking chemo. Probably 2 more cycles, since if I stop now it'll probably come back within a year. I've already done 4 treatments (2 cycles), I don't know if I have it in me for doing this AGAIN. A break's what I need, at least; no fucking way am I able to deal with getting fucked up in that place 3 times in one week. Got them to shift the next torture session to Tuesday instead of this Thursday. Oh, and the clots? The ones someone told me to wait to address and see what the doctors can do? They don't care. It's only if you're dying or if it's already in your lungs that they bother to do anything, so as usual I'll have to rely solely on my own knowledge on blood thinners and platelet production to get anything done.
Broke my fast early since there's not much point in going full water now. Spent the rest of the day running errands, like spending a fuckton on groceries before passing out on the couch for a few hours. Did my jog and went to bed after shitposting for a while.
July 15: Is today a holiday or someone's birthday? Something's telling me it is. I dunno whose or what, but happy whatever it is. I'm not supposed to lift heavy shit right after getting stabbed so I jogged for a while first, instead. Very tired, lifted anyway.
July 16: Still tired but less so, woke up sore. Not going in this week being better was an accurate assessment. Think I may have stomach flu, been burping sulfur for 2 days now and my digestive system seems unhappy. At the end of the day, desk mouse is acting like I'm going to kill her out of nowhere. Her face looks weird and her butt looks wet. I think she may have the same thing I do as I sometimes share my meals with her. With a notable struggle, I got her to get some wet tail medicine to curb potential diarrhea. This involved her launching herself off my chair, desk, my person, and running around the room. She even bit me, which she never does, and looked really whacked out in general. Hopefully she gets better.
July 17: Thought it was still Thursday. Woke up to the finale of my sulfrous issue; if it's not stomach flu then it's the Cheerios. Ate a bit and fell asleep again.
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