Just a reminder before I blast you with Sunday’s post! I have a novella arriving early Tuesday morning! Have you pre-ordered your copy?

Once Upon a Legend is sexy fun set in the Wild, Wild West with a lawman who doesn’t know quite what to think about the woman who falls into his arms from the stagecoach and starts telling him of the danger coming his way… Enjoy!

Report Card

Last week…

1. I guess it’s supposed to be traumatic, but on Monday morning, I showered and, as I was washing my hair, my fingers dragged away clumps of hair. It was time. My dd and the 20-year-old shaved me bald.
2. Last week was ridiculously busy with appointments. On Monday, I saw my oncologist. He didn’t like my white cell blood count, so he gave me another WBC booster shot. On Tuesday, it was another trip to the city to have tests run at the hospital where the port installation surgery would take place. Then, I had the surgery on Thursday. I now have my “borg” port.
3. On Wednesday, my SIL drove me to the nearest military installation an hour and a half away to get me a new ID card. I was a little bummed that my hair didn’t last long enough for the photo. LOL
4. I worked on edits for one author. I also took care of a lot of administrivia—you know, stuff that has to be done but doesn’t move the goalposts or pay the bills.
5. My daughter, the girls, and my SIL continue to be amazing. All four girls in the house were there for me on surgery day even though we had to begin the drive at 4 AM. I really am the luckiest Nina in the world.

This next week…

1. This week is “Hell Week.” Um, by that I mean I have another chemo treatment on Monday. What follows for the rest of the week will not be pleasant.
2. Once Upon a Legend releases on September 17th! I hope you get your copy!
3. I want to wrap up Ignition. It’s the fourth and last book in the Delta Fire series. I moved the release date to October 1st. I’m not sure I’ll have the energy to create, so I might have to push off finishing until the week after.
4. I’m working on editing projects for two authors this week. Two that I have to finish. So, I’ll be hoping for an hour or two of lucidity every morning to putter away.

Open Contests

Be sure to check out these posts and enter to win the prizes that are still up for grabs!

1. Word Search: Signs Fall is coming… (Contest) — This ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
2. Saturday Puzzle-Contest: Movie Night! — This ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
3. Tell me a story: Sweet dreams are made of these… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
4. Katherine Eddinger Smits: Cassadaga, Florida: Spirits, Ghosts, and Mediums (Contest + FREE Read) — Win an Amazon gift card. Plus, pick up a FREE Read!

Puzzle-Contest!

Because I had a guest yesterday, I didn’t run my Saturday Puzzle-Contest! So, let’s do it today!

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, solve the puzzle… It’s a photo of a ridiculously, aesthetically pleasing woman hanging laundry. I can’t seem to resist these “cottagecore” photos. Anyway, solve the puzzle then tell me whether you still hang laundry to dry outside. 

That song by the Eurythmics is playing in my head this morning. I awoke at 4 A.M. but felt refreshed. When I drifted off before 10 last night, I was still floating on a little leftover fentanyl, was lifted a bit by the hydrocodone I took to ease the itchy ache of the new CHEMO PORT sitting just under my skin on the right side of my chest, and was assisted by the kick of the melatonin I took. I was determined my sleep would indeed be sweet and deep.

With sleep, all things feel possible. Without it, I’ve discovered, I can actually dip into depression—something I’ve never really experienced before—and I don’t like it. It changes me. So, I am looking at planning for better sleep come chemo week (next week).

So, with sleep in mind, here’s today’s challenge! See the pretty watercolor below? (Wish it was mine!) For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, what helps you get a great night’s sleep? Or, tell me what she’s dreaming about…

Well, the day I had dreaded came yesterday. I woke up, showered, and as I was rubbing my hands through my hair to swipe away the suds, my fingers pulled away clumps of hair. It was worse when I stepped out of the shower and attempted to blow-dry my hair. My brush couldn’t get through the knots of hair and pulled our more clumps.

I gave up and called out to my girls. My dd and the 20-year-old went to work, first completing the blow-dry without bothering to brush my hair, then using my SIL’s hair clippers to shave my head. We’d been preparing for this day. I’d made tons of jokes about what my head would look like. I’d imagined a bowling-ball-round kopf. Or worse, the bald woman in Total Recall.

Or perhaps Uncle Fester.

Actually, with a little well applied smoky-eye makeup, I could be a sexier “Aunt Festrine.” Hmmm…

When the 15-year-old got home from school, she said, “You know, you look like The Ancient One in Dr. Strange.”

And I’m okay with that.

Hair is only hair. I met with the oncologist today, wearing one of my chemo hats to protect my head from the sun and spare people’s eyes. We went through where we were going with treatments. I had another white blood cell booster shot. I’m set for port surgery on Thursday and another round of chemo next Monday. I’m marching on.

And just to keep it real, here’s me after the girls shaved me bald. There will be no tears. It’s just hair…

Did you notice I didn’t post yesterday? Sorry about that. I posted daily without fail for over five years. Now, if I’m tired and I don’t have a guest’s post, I just won’t. Rest has been my priority. Insomnia has been a thing for the past few weeks. I can be plenty tired when I lay down, but the moment my head hits the pillow… Well, at first, it was due to painful muscles and joints. I got into the habit of sucking down a hydro at night, but it doesn’t really help with sleep. Last night, my dd gave me a melatonin gummy, and I slept for 7.5 hours!!!!!  I feel sooooo good. The only other thing that happened this week was I had a blood draw, and the clinic called me a couple of hours later and told me to get to Hot Springs ASAP because my white blood count had dropped into the dumpster, and they needed me to come in for an injection to help with that. So, my poor dd had yet another appointment to take me to. Next week’s calendar is pretty full, too. Multiple appointments, my port surgery, finally. Then, the following week, I’ll be sitting in the chemo chair again. Ugh. I’m still trying to figure out the rhythm of the appointments and how they affect my body so I can try to get to a new normal.

But enough of that!

All the girls are home today, so we plan on having a lazy movie day later this afternoon. Pizza and The Proposal, I think. The 11-year-old’s first celebrity crush is Ryan Reynolds, so we thought that would be fun for her. In the meantime, I have some work I need to get out of the way. The weather has taken a sudden turn. The air is a little nippy outside. It’s almost sweater weather. That’s not nearly as good as swim weather, but we have to enjoy the change of seasons. It’s that or be grumpy throughout the Fall, and that’s not permitted!

I hope you all have a lazy, pleasant day. Solve the puzzle then tell me what you’re planning to do for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

Thank goodness I had guests lined up this week to post; otherwise, there would not have been any content posted. Today’s the first day I actually feel like placing my fingers on the keyboard.

Monday and Tuesday, I already talked about. That was the honeymoon period. Sure, I didn’t feel great with everything zinging through my veins, but I could handle it. Then…

Tuesday. That afternoon, my cheeks and neck got fiery hot. I talked to the nurse, and she said it could be an allergic reaction, so take some Benadryl. Which was lovely. I took it and took a long, long nap. Just after midnight, early Wednesday morning, was when the real shit hit me.

Every muscle and joint, from my pelvic floor to the tips of my toes, hurt. I couldn’t sit still. I had to constantly rock or shake my feet. For the first 24 hours of that, I didn’t get even so much as a catnap. I relented and took some Hydro and got four hours of sleep, which was helpful, but I remained pretty dazed and uncomfortable throughout Thursday.

It’s Friday now, and it’s better, but all I want to do is steal naps all day long. I get up and shuffle around, then head back to bed. I’m trying to stay away from the Hydro and only use it at night so I can get back to a regular sleep routine. There’s only been light nausea, so that’s good, I guess.

It would be hilarious if I weren’t so miserable how I thought I could plan out my chemo and recovery days. I thought I was giving myself a very generous five days to get back to work. It’s actually blocked out on my calendar like that.

The family has been amazing. They check on me and bring me meals and drinks. It’s up to me to fight this thing, so now that I know, I have to “woman up.” I can do this. I’ll figure out the rhythm and how my body reacts. I’ll figure out what works when I’m tired and cranky because I can’t accept any pity parties from me. What purpose do they serve?

Hope this all makes sense. I’m just journaling at this point, getting it down so I’ll be able to compare it to what comes next. I watched Anne Rice’s Mayfair Witches, Season 1. I didn’t like it, but that could be grumpy me.

I wish everyone health and happiness—and much, much love.

Some of you have asked me to post about my journey. This first post is long. Sorry about that. But the end will make it worth it, I think…

Yesterday was my first chemo day. I arrived at 8:30 in the morning, and I was the last patient checked out at 3:00 in the afternoon. An hour of it was meeting with the doctor, because he likes to check in with you when you begin and answer any questions you have. He monitored me throughout the day to see how my chemo was going. The techs took my stats. Then I headed down to the treatment room. There were five chairs, all mismatched, all different colors and conditions. This treatment room is only used on Mondays by clinic workers that come from their main hub in Hot Springs to help out their patients in Arkadelphia. So, I could have cushier accommodations if I was willing to make the drive, but this is so convenient I’m grateful. I chose one of the two fully functioning chairs and waited as they put in an IV because my chemo port isn’t yet installed.

The boring part—all the meds!

They started a saline drip then disappeared to bring in a multitude of bags they’d be changing in and out throughout the day. They gave me Benedryl for any allergic reactions, something to reduce stomach acid/reflux, steroids, something else (no clue), and I was feeling pretty good. The Bendryl made me feel sleepy so the first hour and an half I dozed happily in and out. Then came the biggie, a 2.5-hour drip of a cancer med, Taxol. As soon as it hit my arm, it burned. I asked if that was normal, the tech frowned, undid the drip and rinsed it out then reapplied it, just to make sure everything was going into my arm the way it was supposed to. The burn was still there, but not as strong, and it warmed up my arm as it shot through my body. Inside a minute, I felt it at the back of my throat. It was acidy, metallic, and just in general tasted like battery acid. After that, they put in the second cancer med, Carboplatin, for another 30-minute drip, followed at last by Jemperli, a monoclonal antibody/immunotherapy drug.

More interesting part… I guess

When I arrived in my treatment room, there was only one other person there. He looked to be in his 70s and had a long, Duck-Dynasty beard. He was very chatty. Very. He asked me where I was from because I didn’t talk like him. I told him I was an Air Force brat who joined the Army. Since I ended up in Arkadelphia, he thought I must be all right then. He told me all about his cancer journey and how he’d been told he wouldn’t live very many months, but he’s seven years into his treatment, and God cured him. He knew exactly when it happened. The preacher prayed over him, and he felt his light sweep inside him. The following week when he returned for a checkup, the bloodwork showed that the cancer in his bone marrow was completely gone. His treatment was very short. I’m thinking he is on immunotherapy now for maintenance. Before he left, he asked if he could pray over me. Now, I’m not religious, I’m spiritual and I’m open-minded. I told him I would appreciate it. He gave me a prayer that was warm and personal, asked for God or the drugs to cure me like they had him, and I smiled afterward and thanked him. As soon as he left, I could see some others filtering into the room, so I grabbed my headphones.

I am an introvert. A hermit. That one conversation “peopled” me out. I spent the rest of the day listening to music or scrolling through Twitter (I refuse to call it X). Wi-Fi inside that building sucked, so I really regretted not pre-downloading a movie and a book, given how much time I had in that chair. The only exercise I got were short walks to the toilet.

I got bored and hungry and didn’t want my snacks. So, I messaged my daughter around lunchtime, and she drove back into town to bring Wendy’s spicy chicken sandwiches and drinks. We enjoyed spending the time together—and she had made me promise to call her if I needed anything. So, I didn’t feel one bit guilty about it. One nice thing was that we got to witness a patient ringing her bell to symbolize that she had beat her cancer. It turns out, my daughter knows her, and was really happy to witness that. There were lots of smiles and clapping. And wistful sighs.

When my Taxol (the kickass cancer drug) was running through me, I got very, very hot. I noted that the other had blankets on, and I was regretting wearing sweatpants because I was roasting. The tech brought me wet paper towels to cool my face, and I sucked down bottles of water. I was scared to death I wasn’t reacting well to the chemo and that they’d have to rejigger my plan.

An hour later, I heard the tech in the hallway say, “Hey, the thermostat says it’s 81-degrees in here!” When he came back inside, he gave me a lopsided smile. “That wasn’t just you.” Whew.

By the time I was done with the drugs, I was done for the day, or so I thought. My daughter was in the school line, waiting to pick up kids, so I had to wait outside for a few minutes after they locked up the clinic to transfer all their equipment and load up for the trek back to Hot Springs. I’m sure I could have waited inside, but I was eager to be OUT.

Aftermath

I was so happy to be home, sitting in the AC, hearing my noisy family and dogs. I sat for a little while, trying to get motivated to head downstairs to my apartment. I have an office, my living-bed area, and my art room downstairs. I like it there. When I need to work or have some quiet time, I retreat there. I have only my cat and the two bunnies in the art room. They don’t make much noise.

I changed out of my sweats into my nightgown and just laid down to take a nap in my cool sheets when the 15-year-old stuck her head in the door. “Hey, Nina, I don’t want to bother you, but you did say to nag you about the pool…”

I had issued orders that, while it was still warm enough, I wasn’t going to miss a day in the pool, no matter how much I might grouse about fatigue or whatever. I grumbled but told her to give me five. So, five minutes later, I was back upstairs, shuffling outside to the pool, thinking I would only last a few minutes before I’d have to head back to bed because chemo sucked the juice out of me.

An hour later, I reluctantly left the pool and headed to the shower, feeling completely rejuvenated. I didn’t go straight to bed. Instead, I ate Domino’s Pizza with the family talking about their days. Completely normal.

So, Day One wasn’t so bad—just overlong. The key is HEADPHONES. Kill the time with something that interests me, so I don’t count the 30-minute drip bags. I know Wednesday is supposedly hell-day for the nausea and fatigue, but I’m ready for it.

The Picture

Around 10:00 last night, when I was finally ready to sleep, the 15-year-old poked her head in the door again. She asked if she could give me something. I waved her in and sat on the edge of the bed.

She was carrying that bear. I barely remembered it. If you’ve been following me for any length of time, you know that she’s the girl who’s had cancer three times in her leg. Her shin bone had to be replaced with a cadaver bone, and her own marrow was encouraged to grow and fill it. She’s been cancer-free for several years now with some nodules they keep an eye on, but she held onto her cancer bear. She apologized that there are worn spots on its it shoes and fur, because she rubbed the bear whenever she couldn’t sleep when she was scared. She wanted me to have it. Her mom followed her inside the room and went to the bag of goodies the clinic had given me as a welcome gift. One of the gifts were the “fighting pretty” gloves in my cancer’s pretty teal color. She carried the bear and the gloves to my desk, took the picture, and said they were to stay on my desk until I’m cured or in remission.

Sorry this was so long. But I thought I’d share some details for anyone else who might be facing this or know someone who is. Just keeping it real.