02-13-26

Kansas Snapshots by Gloria Freeland - February 13, 2026

Light at the end of the tunnel

When I stepped outside to retrieve our mail last Saturday, the sunshine, temperature of 55 degrees, and a slight southerly breeze made me smile. I realized this was probably just a "blip" in the middle of our normally-cold February days, but for a moment, it made me feel like spring wasn't that far away.

I had had my third intravenous chemotherapy treatment for breast cancer just three days before. I had a lot of anxiety before the first one in December because I didn't know what to expect. It wasn't a whole lot better going into the second in January because then I did know. But now I'm more "educated" on how it's going to affect me and I've learned to deal with it the best I can.

I've learned that four-to-seven days after the infusion is when the worst of the side effects kick in. These include achiness, stomach cramps, extreme tiredness, lack of appetite, and a desire to just let the world go by. The following days are marked by diarrhea, skin rashes, nose bleeds, dry eyes, a waxy-feeling film on my tongue, and weird "cuts" that appear near my fingernails. I started losing my hair after the first treatment and now just have fuzz on my head - but at least that part - meaning my head - didn't hurt or feel uncomfortable.

I've always been resistant to taking more medication than absolutely necessary and, for most of my life, have only had to take daily calcium and multi-vitamin supplements. Now, I have to work with my doctor and my own system to find the best way to manage my symptoms. In the process, I’ve become familiar with drugs I'd never heard of before.

Dexamethasone (dex-a-METH-a-zone) is a steroid used to reduce inflammation and allergic reactions to the "cocktail" of chemotherapy drugs - Taxotere (tak-SOW-teer), Carboplatin (kaar-bow-pla-tn) and others - that are pumped into a port located in my left chest wall. The port was surgically inserted when I had my bilateral mastectomy in October, and I sometimes refer to the port as an "alien insect." It's a rounded piece of plastic that sometimes feels like it's moving when I’m in bed.

I now know that the Dexamethasone, which I take the day before, the day of, and the day after a treatment, make me "wired." During those three days, my mind races and I make lists of all the projects I want to work on as I lie awake until 4 or 5 in the morning. Then I spend the next few days napping off and on. And all those projects? They’re pushed out of my head for some as-yet unknown date!

I also know the shot administered the day after the infusion will make me achy as it's designed to prod my bone marrow to boost white blood cells.

I've had blood drawn weekly to check for levels of potassium, magnesium, white blood cells, red blood cells, proteins, etc. and whether the drugs are affecting my heart, kidneys and other organs. When my oncologist noticed my potassium was low, he prescribed a daily pill equivalent to eating 10 bananas! I like bananas, but if I need 10, I'll opt for the pill!

After the first two treatments, I couldn't find much that sounded appetizing. I tried green beans, sliced peaches, toast, rice, scrambled eggs - all bland foods that had little taste. One day, I thought potato salad sounded good, so I downed a good portion of it. On another day, pizza appealed to me. I wasn't sure how wise it was to introduce rich or spicy foods into my sensitive system, but I thought at least I could enjoy the food going down - and none has ever later come up!

My hit-and-miss method of eating meant I was losing weight at a too-rapid rate, so I invested in some protein drinks. Those have stabilized my weight and increased my energy level.

When I told my doc about the cuts on my fingers, he suggested slathering them with Udder Cream at bed-time and wearing gloves to protect our sheets. That seems to be helping.

Potato salad was briefly an appetizer, main course, and dessert

After about the first week and a half to two weeks into a cycle, I start feeling close to normal again, so I schedule dates with friends and other activities. They give me something to look forward to.

Husband Art and youngest daughter Katie conspired to give me a special surprise during one of those periods. Katie flew to Manhattan from her home in Madison, Wisconsin in late January when we had a six-inch snow and below-zero temperatures. When daughter Mariya and her wife Miriam invited me to their place because granddaughter Diana wanted to see me, I jumped at the chance, even though I swore earlier in the day I was NOT getting out in the cold! When we arrived at their home, Mariya said Diana had some new toys she wanted to show me. I opened the door to her nursery and was rendered speechless to see Katie sitting on the carpet with a big red Christmas bow on her head!

DQ wanted Katie to put the bow on her head again

When Art and I were coming home from Europe last summer, our flight from Chicago to Manhattan was canceled. I wasn't thrilled to take a detour involving first flying to Dallas to catch another flight to Kansas. But it worked.

This third cycle of chemo - out of six I'm scheduled to have - marked the halfway point of a different kind of journey I never wanted to take. But with the help of family, friends, and health professionals, I'll manage it. And those days near the end of each cycle? They are like my sunshine-filled, warm, balmy-breezed last Saturday - a reminder that there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Katie joined my gal-pal Monday-with-Mandy group