The Chemo Demonology

Day 6

General status update:

Nausea: ad nauseam

Hair: far too scared to touch it, in case it starts coming out in clumps

Bones: aching

Digestion: perfectly fine, thank you very much

Strength: dissipating

Anxiety level (0-10): β- - /γ + (+)?

State of mind: blooped (that’s a special chemo word - please don’t ask me to define it further)

 
 

At this point in my first chemo cycle, the true terror lies in simply not knowing what is going to happen next, which of the many possible Chemo Demons will come and strike, probably in the watches of the night, when I am least able to resist. The battle horde of the Chemo Demons is mighty, and the weapons in their armoury of torture both various and intricate: their fearsome leader Chemosh, God of the Moabites, turns up at an early stage in Judaeo-Christian demonology, and features in Book 1 of Paradise Lost:

 

Next CHEMOS, th' obscene dread of MOABS Sons,
From AROER to NEBO, and the wild
Of Southmost ABARIM; in HESEBON
And HERONAIM, SEONS Realm, beyond
The flowry Dale of SIBMA clad with Vines,
And ELEALE to th' ASPHALTICK Pool.
PEOR his other Name, when he entic'd
ISRAEL in SITTIM on their march from NILE
To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe.
Yet thence his lustful Orgies he enlarg'd
Even to that Hill of scandal [the Mount of Olives], by the Grove
Of MOLOCH homicide, lust hard by hate;
Till good JOSIAH drove them thence to Hell.
                                                                   

                                                                        John Milton, "Paradise Lost", Book I

 

The first arrival, the Nausea Demon, has already been in situ all week, squatting astride my stomach like a hideous incubus, impossible either to detach or ignore:

  

 

 

For some people the nausea begins to abate after Day 3, but unfortunately that hasn’t yet happened for me; the nausea is controlled by a variety of drugs, but is still all-pervasive, and there is no sign of it going away any time soon.  

The Nausea Demon arrives first, presumably, because of the stomach’s centrality, and immediacy: the other demons come later, because it takes time for the toxins of the chemo to seep through to the outer reaches of your body, permeate and poison its extremities, and produce slower, and deeper, effects. I know that my hair is unlikely to start falling out until at least next week, but already I am afraid to touch it with a comb or a brush, in case it starts suddenly coming out in clumps. My bones have begun to ache today, a little, and I’m feeling weak and tired – the intense steroid-fuelled activity of earlier in the week is no longer sustainable, and I’m starting to wonder if a little of the fuzziness of Chemo Brain

 – of which there will be more discussion later, as the Chemo Brain Demon is one of those I fear the most  –

 is starting to creep in around the edges of my consciousness. I couldn’t remember the name of the television programme ‘Seinfeld’ today, and could only think it was called ‘Kramer’ – but maybe that was just the result of a fairly difficult and trying first week of treatment. Or middle age.

This, however, is just the first week of the first cycle - the effect of the toxins in your system is incremental, as the poison slowly builds up: it’s going to be a long, long party for the Chemo Demons, and they say that the third cycle of FEC is the one that really, really hurts. This leads me to wonder why no one ever mentions the remaining cycles after that, cycles 4-6:
 

 WHAT HAPPENS THEN, FOR GOD’S SAKE ???
 

 As of yet, I simply haven’t had the courage to ask.