The chemotherapy is settling in, I guess. The hiccoughs are mostly gone, but so is my appetite, and I have bouts of nausea until I take the pills. (I'm taking a battery of pills, now; at least five daily.) And the swelling has gone down, but the site of my IV is quite sore. I'm still feeling some of the effects of the illness, too; I'm having some pain just now, and I went through the sweats again last night. Lastly, and pardon me for mentioning it, but I am painfully constipated, as I was warned.
So, there are this morning's grumbles. I knew this would be an ordeal, and it will be, but at least the battle has been joined. As I suffer through these side-effects, I think that my breathing has improved a little; maybe the tumor is having a worse time of it than I am.
With little to be done for me, other than keep me eating, Gail is turning her attention to the house; cleaning it up, and trying to begin the brightening-and-redecorating that we had hoped to do. I know it's been driving her nuts; this old, dark bachelor's house is in direct opposition to her bright Pacific sensibilities. I really wish I could help her more, but I just feel tired and useless in my current state. Frustrating...
