I guess that a lot of people embark on chemotherapy while they are asymptomatic. For my husband, this was not the case. In fact, he looked and felt like hell. Had he been able to start chemo a day earlier, he would have jumped at the chance. You really have to feel like shit to be begging for chemo to start.
On Friday morning, the first day of chemo, the oncology pharmacist met with us to review each of the drugs that would be administered and/or prescribed for Hubs' chemo regimen (R-CHOP). This discussion included a verbal review of the side effects and printed descriptions of each that went into more detail--a rather fat stack of papers that I spent the evening going over with a highlighter.
Part of the mix includes three different medications to combat nausea. Each is progressively stronger. You're instructed to take the strongest one for the first three days. No matter what. The others, you take as needed, but it's strongly suggested you take one or the other the first day or two, at least.
With all of these warnings, bottles, packets, pills, injections, and the like, we were bracing for the worst this weekend. Instead, Hubs' awoke Saturday morning looking and feeling better than he has in at least a month. Sunday morning, he looked and felt even better.
His swelling has decreased. He's had no nausea. He is able to talk without coughing. Breathe. Sleep. Eat. All without the incredible discomfort he had prior to Friday.
We are all in awe. Blessed, gracious awe.