I've been a bad blogger—and here's why

Me in the ER looking lovingly at a unit of blood

Nothing like illness to remind you that there's a lot you can't control. But still, you try. Pre-chemo, I did my research. I had lists of vitamins, alternative therapies to alleviate side-effect X or complication Z; I made sure anti-bacterial wipes were always within reach. And I was going to keep my hair from falling out by freezing my scalp during each infusion.

First treatment was easy—at least that's what I thought when I got home that night. To the extent that I can be cocky (not very), I showed up cocky the next morning, a Thursday, to get my Neulasta shot—an injection that boosts your white-blood-cell count to prevent infection (and causes killer bone pain unless you load up on Claritin and Advil). "By Saturday, you'll feel like you ran a marathon," the nurse warned me. She was right. Saturday, Sunday, Monday = blah. By Tuesday I was feeling better. On Wednesday, the chemo clouds lifted.

Second infusion three weeks later, same thing. Then the little bleeding incident I wrote about in my first post. Like I predicted, I ended up in the ER—my hemoglobin count had dropped to 6.1, which is considered life threatening. I got two units of blood and could have easily used a third, but that would have required hospital admission and there was no way I was going to spend the night in the hospital.

So, I went into Chemo #3 a little short on hemoglobin, the thing that carries oxygen through your blood (or something like that). I was knocked on my ass. Just exhausted. Food tasted awful, which killed my whole eat-healthy plan. All I wanted was pasta. And, like with any sustained episode of feeling crappy, I started wondering if I'd ever feel OK again.

Then Friday morning the chemo clouds lifted, the birds were singing. It was a gorgeous day. I went to work, I got a lot done and told my husband we were going out that night. And we did. We met a couple of friends for dinner and a movie.

Around 11:30 that night, the hives appeared. I only know they were hives because I looked up pictures online. I've never had hives before in my life. I have no real allergies—too many strawberries make my eyelids itchy, codeine makes me vomit, and that's about it. But on Friday night, I had red welts on my legs, neck and, oddly enough, left thumb. By Saturday morning, it looked like the left half of my upper lip had had a bad run-in with a silicone injection. I took two Benadryl, fell asleep—serious stuff, that Benadryl—and woke up four hours later with a swollen right eye, tightness in my throat and even more hives.

So, we went to the ER. Again.

ERs are about fixing problems, not necessarily determining what caused them, so I still don't know what I'm allergic to, but whatever it was, Pepcid, steroids and a prescription allergy medication fixed me up by the next morning.

Hives aren't an uncommon chemotherapy side effect, but they usually happen within a day or two of the infusion. It'd been more than a week for me. Could it be related to the blood transfusion? Maybe, but unlikely. I didn't eat anything I don't normally eat, take any medication I don't normally take or use a lotion or soap I don't normally use.

Sunday I was better and went to dinner with a dear friend who was visiting from Boston. Monday, I was fine. Monday night I started feeling icky. Tuesday morning, I was feeling worse. I had a story due at 1:30. How I finished it, I have no idea, but I turned it in, ran to the office bathroom and vomited. The vomiting continued for a few hours. "At least I don't have a fever," I told my husband. As if on cue, my head started feeling hot. Over the next two hours, my temperature went from normal to 101.3. For a chemo patient that's bad. Very, very bad.

A third trip to the ER? No chance. It's a $100 co-payment each time. That's a stupid reason not to go, but, amid the fever, all I could think about is how ER co-pays were undermining the gift cards I just got for my birthday.

I took two Tylenol and my husband got out of the freezer the three-inch-wide bands that are part of the cold caps I've been using to keep my hair. For the next couple hours, we wrapped them around my forehead. And, my fever dropped. By midnight, it was just under 100 and hasn't gone back up since.

Maybe there are things we can control. Or maybe it was luck and the 24-hour flu.