Chemo and Quilts

Last week I sort of took a turn for the worst. I mean, my chemo caught up with me.

I was hoping I could run fast enough to stay out of its blasted reach!

I've had this awful, awful cough, all due to the fact that my body somehow has become this super-charged mucus-producing machine. Seriously, people. Come on, come all! See the cancer girl and her NOSE! The nurse said it is mucositis. Look it up your own self.

I overmedicated on Sudafed, Benadryl, Mucinex, cough medicine with codeine, cough drops. So I slept and slept and slept.

Then my absolute neutrophil count went into the toilet. Meaning I'm neutropenic--very few white blood cells. No more fresh fruits & veggies. And... daily neupogin shots.

And then... horror of horrors!

I got thrush. In my mouth.

My throat was raw and my mouth burned. I couldn't swallow very well. And my whole body ached from coughing. My stomach. Even my butt.

And then. My hair started falling out again. On my pillow in the morning. In the shower. Blast.

So, pumped up on antibiotics, I started feeling sorry for myself. Chemo is ripping my body apart. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and wait out the next four weeks.

But I didn't. I mean, I took naps and I slowed down considerably. And I pulled out some old quilt blocks from a quilt block exchange four years ago (I think. I can't do math with chemo brain). I had used many of the blocks I had originally received in two other quilts, but I had saved all the pink and brown ones. And it was time to put them together.

I had purchased extra fabrics to match some of the blocks (and boy, am I glad I did--this line has become obsolete!). So with the help of Katie, who figured out dimensions and made practice blocks, and Amy, who had this brilliant idea for my adjusted pattern, I got to work.

I ironed.


I measured.


I cut.


I sewed.

Repeat. Several times. In the cool of my basement, while all the world was at the pool for Memorial Day weekend. (I love the pool. I cannot go to the pool because of chemo and antibiotics. Don't be bitter; be better.)

I figured quilting is like my body on chemo. Cut apart. Put back together. Cut apart. Put back together. I can't wait to see my finished product(s).