I went to the Cancer Center yesterday. My blood counts were pretty good. Dr. GPO was happy that Dr. H was so happy. He signed the order to get me my new lower dose of Rev (15 mg! Woo!) and told me I could come down to 4 mg of dex. THAT IS ONE PILL. When I started all this, I was taking TEN dex pills at once. I was excited, but then I started obsessing over it when I got home. (Me? Obsess over my treatment? I know. It's shocking.) The plan was to come off the dex gradually, and I've only been on 6 mg for two weeks (well, this weekend makes it three weeks). I haven't even seen any test results that show if the 6 mg is doing its job. I decided to keep myself on 6 mg until I get my results back and see that everything is all right, even though I'll most likely be in total misery tomorrow. I'm glad I have lots of episodes of Dr. Phil in the TiVo.
Yeah, the dex crashes have finally started to catch up with me. Last week during the crash, all I could do by Monday afternoon was lie there and watch Dr. Phil during WCK's nap. I even watched the one where he counseled Danny Bonaduce and his soon-to-be-ex-wife. It was painfully, painfully, painfully annoying, but I was too weak to find a different episode. It made me realize, though, that there are much worse things than dex, such as having to be married to Danny Bonaduce.