Fantastic organization + Amazing clothes + Lush urban setting =
Welcome to the sordid chronicle of my medical adventures, mishaps and triumphs with a side of assorted helpful links. Although I recently achieved that coveted clean bill of health, The Cancer Dancer will oh-so-gracefully trudge on as a means to share the personal and practical findings I continue to discover. Join me from the beginning (as the wide-eyed new patient) or join me now (as the seasoned survivor).
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Forget-Me-Not
At three and half months out of chemo, it's probably safe to say that the drugs have, for the most part, evacuated my body. My eyebrows are back, I've got serious energy and The Hair Tracker is in full swing. While the hideous side effects of six months of treatment will never be forgotten, hopping back into "real life" has displaced them from their usual position at the top of my list of things to obsess over. So I've occasionally been surprised by some of the minor but to-be-expected results:
Age spots Really? Thanks a lot, chemotherapy. Time to bust out the exfoliator and start caring what Retinol is.
Peripheral Neuropathy The tiny shock that spontaneously occurs in my feet never gets old.
Heartburn Not even comparable to during treatment, but still happens occasionally.
Yes, that's correct. Three and a half months out of treatment!
Age spots Really? Thanks a lot, chemotherapy. Time to bust out the exfoliator and start caring what Retinol is.
Peripheral Neuropathy The tiny shock that spontaneously occurs in my feet never gets old.
Heartburn Not even comparable to during treatment, but still happens occasionally.
Yes, that's correct. Three and a half months out of treatment!
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