Quick update:
We're in the "let the body heal" stage of the first chemo cycle, which basically means 1 down, 5 to go. Mom is coping much better than we'd hoped with the chemo, and is tooling around pretty good, although tomorrow is the day to shave off what is left of the hair. I'm hopeful that she'll come through this very well. Usually the second chemo cycle is the worst, so we've still got that to face.
The major issue right now is the fact that her senses are all "chemo senses" which means everything tastes and smells bizarre because chemo kills tastebuds and smell receptors. Just so you have an idea, flowers and any flower-smelling products... not allowed. Fruits and vegetables... banned.
Smoked salmon and stinky cheese? Oh hell yeah. And curry. lots and lots of curry, the spicier the better. And homemade tortillas as a carrier for it all.
This house smells like an El Salvadoran Indonesian Jewish restaurant. Bad. Tasty, but very very bad.
We're in the "let the body heal" stage of the first chemo cycle, which basically means 1 down, 5 to go. Mom is coping much better than we'd hoped with the chemo, and is tooling around pretty good, although tomorrow is the day to shave off what is left of the hair. I'm hopeful that she'll come through this very well. Usually the second chemo cycle is the worst, so we've still got that to face.
The major issue right now is the fact that her senses are all "chemo senses" which means everything tastes and smells bizarre because chemo kills tastebuds and smell receptors. Just so you have an idea, flowers and any flower-smelling products... not allowed. Fruits and vegetables... banned.
Smoked salmon and stinky cheese? Oh hell yeah. And curry. lots and lots of curry, the spicier the better. And homemade tortillas as a carrier for it all.
This house smells like an El Salvadoran Indonesian Jewish restaurant. Bad. Tasty, but very very bad.

