Actress Krysta Rodriguez just finished seven months of chemo. Here, she answers every question you've ever had about the cancer treatment.
By Krysta Rodriguez
May 7, 2015
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I've been waiting for this day for seven months. There has been a red circle around this day since I was diagnosed with cancer, and I've kept my eye on it relentlessly until it finally arrived. My last day of chemo! So since I've walked through the fire and come out the other side, it's time to share some of my new expertise with you.
What is the process like exactly?
I have to admit, chemo is a real snoozefest. Literally! Let me explain. For my particular cancer, I would go into the treatment center every three weeks to receive a dose of two different types of medicine. When I arrived each time, I was led into a large room with big comfy reclining chairs with about 15 or 20 other patients who were receiving treatment. They would take my blood first to make sure all my white blood cell counts are stable. Once I got the all-clear, the nurse would put an IV in my arm (still my least favorite part of my whole cancer experience) and that would administer a hefty cocktail of pre-meds to ease my body into the hard stuff. This is a mixture of Benadryl, Ativan, and steroids to get you nice and loopy. Bye, bye, brain! Having Benadryl pumped directly into your veins is like playing a game of trying to remain coherent, which I would undoubtedly lose. But it's a good thing because each of my chemo meds had to drip into my veins for two hours. That's four hours of chemo fun that I would just as soon sleep through, thank you very much. All total, I was usually there for six hours but practically unconscious for about four of that. Not exactly beauty sleep, but I'll never pass up a nap.
How often do you have to go?
I went every three weeks for six treatments. We had initially agreed to try four, but an MRI revealed the tumor was getting smaller so we opted for the extra two to keep that sucker shrinking!
Do you get nervous before each treatment, or are you used to it?
I wouldn't say "nervous" is the right word. Sure, there were a lot of unknowns, especially before I began the process, but by the time I walked into the treatment center for my first round, my resolve had reach Hulk-like proportions. I practically kicked down the door chanting, "What do we want? Chemo! When do we want it? NOW!" My body needed me to step up and I had to answer the call. If that meant going through a little slice of hell, then so be it. That assuredness lessened as the treatments went on. Once you've experienced the side effects, it's hard to psyche yourself into returning to the scene of the crime. I would find myself getting sad or anxious in the days leading up to another dose. I think my body just knew what was in store and wasn't ready. But for me, mental strength was key, and I would allow these moments to happen but not dwell on them.
Do you talk to the other patients there?
This is always an interesting conundrum. At my center, everyone is in the same room so there's a balancing act between trying to leave someone alone and acknowledging that we can see and hear everything you do. In general, most people keep to themselves with the occasional group conversation when a nurse comes to check on someone. But I have had some comforting chats with other patients. It's a great opportunity to share your story or gather information from other people's journeys. The camaraderie can be very powerful.
When you go for treatment, are you one of the youngest people there?
Let me put it this way: Before I went bald, when my mom would come with me to appointments, the doctors or nurses immediately thought she was the patient and then would stare at me slack-jawed when I told them I was actually the one with cancer. Breast cancer is not typically a young person's game, so, yes, I'm about 20 years younger than most people there. But since my medication put me into menopause, we all have a lot in common. We fan ourselves through our hot flashes and gab about not having a period.
Does it hurt?
Besides the prick of the needle (Did I already mention how much I hate that?), the actual process isn't painful. The effects afterward have some pain associated with it, but the drip itself is very gentle.
Do you feel sick during it or after?
The short answer is no. The pre meds are designed to prep your body in a way that the side effects don't hit you until days later. But I did have an instance where I got sick during a treatment. Fun fact: Taxotere, a common chemo drug, is made from the bark of a tree. Turns out, my body hates this tree. During my second treatment I had an allergic reaction to the drugs. I was minding my own business, right about to settle into my Ativan haze, when my chest and throat closed up, my whole body and scalp turned red, and I got so dizzy the room started spinning. They immediately stopped the drip, but it was a scary few minutes. We changed that drug to Taxol for the next time and stayed with that for the remaining four sessions.
What are the side effects really like? When do they kick in?
From what I can gather from other people, each person's side effects are different. There are some consistent ones, but everyone reacts uniquely. For me, the major side effects were nausea, bone pain, insomnia, and neuropathy with the occasional rash thrown in. And, of course, a shiny new scalp. One thing that's nice is that the effects are fairly consistent for each treatment. I kept a diary and was able to track each cycle pretty accurately. I would get a treatment on a Thursday and leave feeling fine and basically normal, thanks to the pre meds. Friday, I would be tired because I couldn't sleep but would feel mostly normal. But on that day, I would get a shot that would stimulate the white blood cells that are being diminished from the chemo. So by Saturday, hello, bone pain. It's the worst. The cells are getting stimulated inside your marrow so the inside of your bones hurt. Remember getting growing pains as a kid? It's like that, but someone told your bones they need to be Shaquille O'Neal overnight. Then by day four, the nausea really sets in, but the anti-nausea medication I was prescribed helped tremendously. The neuropathy would come into my feet a few days after that, which made it hard to walk. The body is attempting to rid itself of the chemo by releasing it through your pores, so your hands and feet take the brunt of this "great escape." I had acute pain and redness in my extremities, but once I realized that, I stayed off my feet. Then, voilà! It's Thursday again, and I would feel basically normal.
Is it only inpatient, or is there any follow-up at home?
For me it was only the treatment with a follow-up blood test and the bone shot. Others have to stay in the hospital or have more side effects to manage
Does everyone lose his or her hair? If so, what is that experience like?
When I came in for my first treatment, the nurse handed my mother a War and Peace-size packet of side effects. She wanted us to have the information at hand but didn't want me to read them all in case I WebMD'd myself into a rabbit hole. Instead, she handed me a single sheet of paper with the major side effects that were going to be most likely. Only one was highlighted: hair loss. With the meds I was on, it was a guarantee. People informed me of some ways around it using cold caps that counteract the chemo, but I wanted to allow the medication to do what it needed to do so I didn't explore those options. Instead I had a head shave party!
Does it grow back with the same texture? Thicker or thinner?
Your guess is as good as mine! I just had my last treatment so I'm looking forward to seeing what sprouts up!
Do you lose hair everywhere?
I'm telling you, chemo has saved me a ton of money in hair maintenance. I wish I could choose the parts I don't want it to grow back! Yes, it leaves everywhere. Sometimes that's great, and sometimes it's disappointing. My underarm hair went first, and it was so fast I didn't even notice it. Maybe four days after my first treatment, I went to shave under there, and it was smooth as a baby. I practically had a burning ceremony for my razor. Next was the head hair. That was about two weeks into it, and I took matters into my own hands in that case. Next was the bikini line. It's amazing. Best Brazilian I've ever gotten. If only it didn't come with those pesky side effects! The leg hair quickly followed, but wouldn't you know, my ape-like arm hair that I have hated since childhood stuck around for months. I guess even chemo was no match for my forest of Latina forearms. By the fourth treatment, my eyebrows finally started thinning noticeably, and there are large gaps in my eyelashes but they didn't fall out completely. They must have made a combo deal with the arm hair.
Has it affected what you've been able to eat?
Sometimes I wish it had. No, I went the opposite direction as most people and craved food all hours of the day. Breads, pastas, meats, anything large and hearty. My doctors were amazed. With the sloshy nausea, all I wanted was solid and greasy comfort food all the time. The scale reflected this desire, and I have gained 20 pounds and counting since starting treatment. Chemo may be a nice skin and beauty surprise, but it's certainly not my diet of choice!
What should I not say to or ask someone going through it?
I've actually made a list that answers exactly that question! Check it out here.
How do you feel about people who choose not to get chemo and pursue holistic options?
I'm a worst-case scenario planner. I always have been. So in certain quiet moments in my life, I would imagine how I would react to getting cancer. I envisioned throwing out my microwave and moving to an organic farm, and my cancer would melt away with each harvest sunrise. And then I got cancer. Somehow, when it was presented to me, that route didn't ring true anymore. I gathered a lot of opinions and decided that I would do it my way: a mix of traditional and holistic. I did throw out my microwave and drastically altered my diet. I also did chemo. I used turmeric pills instead of narcotics for pain because I found them more effective. I basically tried to do anything that worked the best, and wasn't discriminant if it was natural or conventional. I let the best treatment win. It comes down to this for me: If there were one way to cure cancer, we would have cured cancer. We are all just making our way through unpredictable terrain, and however you want to do that is your prerogative.
What would surprise people most about chemo treatments?
What surprised me the most was how normal life could be surrounding chemo. After the week of feeling crappy, I would feel completely back to myself. It was as if I was living a double life. Secret Agent Rodriguez reporting for duty! So you can still act the same around your friends with cancer. Give them some space if they feel yucky that day, but as soon as they feel good, they are going to want some normalcy. And in my case, a large pizza.
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