Chemo Day 1....Finished. As with all parts of this process, the anticipation seemed worse than the actual 'therapy'. The treatment took from 8am-6pm. They started with the Rituxan...which took ages because they had to stop/restart whenever I began having an allergic response. For the interested, Rituxan specifically targets B Cells and marks them for destruction by macrophages (hopefully I'm getting the science right here...I'm too tired to check)..and it is made using mouse antibodies...which causes an allergic reaction. After than, the other drugs were given.

I think worrying about what the allergic reactions 'might' be was worse than the actual allergic resopnse of itching, etc.

After I left, I felt hugely bloated....I could barely catch my breath because my stomach had just blown up...it was really weird...fortunately, that has gone down today.

I was up much of the night drinking water and running to the bathroom because my mouth is so dry...I have to stay hydrated.

Other than some pesky flu-like symptoms/headache and tiredness, I feel ok. It could be worse and I'm just grateful to be started with the treatment....1 down...5 to go..plus radiation.

Today I go in for another ultrasound to check on baby as well. Hopefully, things will be going alright for baby too.

The weird irony here that I was thinking about yesterday is that I've got a touch of OCD...and one of my obsessions has been 'catching cancer'. Rolling Eyes Confession...when I get change through the drive-thru, I try very hard not to touch the person's hand giving the change...if I see someone with cancer...terrible confession...in the past I've held my breath just in case..though rationally, I know you can't 'catch cancer' that way. A few weeks ago I was up at the clinic for a peds appointment and Aidan (age 2) ran down by the cancer center....I couldn't help but feel it was a bad, bad omen....I hold my breath when I drive by graveyards and I don't read the obituaries.

I've lived with these symptoms long enough that I know to just let them...pass on through my mind.. but the irony here just is just weird.

The thing is, I KNEW something horrible was wrong...I really did. My dh thought I was being my hypochondriac self (not out of the realm of reality, either) and I actually sat and laughted with my internist while we were waiting for my x-ray to come back about how I probably needed prozac instead of an albuterol inhaler. Turns out...I didn't need either....

The inhaler didn't work for me anyway...and just a few weeks ago when I was complaining about it, my husband turned to me and said "what are you telling me? That you have a lymphoma or something? I mean...if it isn't working and you really ARE this sick then something awful is wrong". Shocked

We've replayed so many of these conversations/thoughts over the last few days.

But....I feel positive that we are on the right track...sorry for the ramble.