Danny and I took off for the Memorial Day weekend. We packed up Emma and Bingie; Emma in her crate in the back of the truck, and Bingie wandering the cab, finally settling onto my lap. We braved the crazy traffic, and headed east over the mountains. My parents gave us their house so that we could get out of town, knowing that we need a kitchen in order to function with our crazy chemo phase. It was so much fun getting away from the routine of our life. We needed a break, a change of pace, a different view, new scenery, and a mild adventure.
Above are photos of the chemo process. On Saturday night, Danny and I made two batches. These new little gadgets are making things so easy! After the drink had cooked for three hours at 100 degrees, I hunkered down. It took me an hour to ingest an entire glass, five large sips every 20 minutes, which is pretty typical. I can't drink it fast or it causes almost instant projectile vomiting. After my last sip, I was able to hold the drink down for one hour, then, after gently pacing, and doing some deep breathing, I had a wave of nausea so severe that there was nothing I could do. Neither my desire nor thinking of warm beaches, butterflies and bunnies did it either, I went to say something and vomit shot out of my mouth. It was seriously like something you'd see in a horror movie. The worst part about vomiting, other than the fact that I need my body to absorb the sulforaphane, is that one drink costs about $40. So, it's practically liquid gold. I don't care about the cost, as long as it gets into my body. I'd pay anything to heal myself, but if the money is going down the drain, quite literally, it's frustrating.
Danny cleaned up all of the mess, which was incredibly sweet. I wish that there was something I could do - I feel like I'm literally allergic to this stuff. The worst part is that this chemo drink that we created on Saturday night was half the dose of the normal drink. I honestly don't think I can drink it, not even a little bit. It always causes me to be sick.
Fortunately, there's a way to slow cook the drink, and as it dries up, you can roll the film into pills. Since we recognized my issue with the chemo drink in the past, as a precaution, we had already enlisted my parent's help in creating chemo pills. So, thankfully, when we saw my parents, after the long weekend, they handed me a bag of their homemade pills. Not wanting to waste any time, last night, I started with five pills which is 245.5 mg. I'm starting slow, trying to find my tolerance. Five pills caused heartburn, and some discomfort, but that's fine - no big deal. I can handle pain, and discomfort. In fact, I can handle all of the horrible side effects, but somehow I can't manage to keep it down for good. There has to be a point, though, the threshold where I can get the maximum effect and not vomit. The way that my body rids itself of the chemo drink is shocking. It's like I'm possessed - it's unreal. I just need to keep this stuff in my system long enough to get the effects. And happily, at least now, I have a few pills to slowly assess things. The pills are lot of work, but with my parents and Danny and I, all working like two sweatshop factories, we should be able to keep a good amount in production. I have to do whatever I can to heal my body. This treatment works, we already know that, but, first things first, I have to find a way to keep it in my system.