Clive Wearing today. My mind's finally cleared up somewhat, and I just feel like saying "Now I am finally awake for the first time!" over and over again. For those of you who are not acute psychology nerds, the Clive Wearing reference may be lost, but worry not, you're not missing much. It's a rather lame joke.
I'm still not 100%. Reading is still difficult. Poor sentence structure is my enemy. I can manage short online conversations and the like, but I still can't read a full article, or anything of the sort.
The ciprofloxacin (antibiotic) is messing with my stomach something awful. I had some pretty bad pains last night, but I can't mix it with any antacids or anything of the sort. I'll try going back to good ol prevacid tonight, an hour or two before I take my second round.
Food is starting to taste normal-ish again, but I still have no appetite. I somehow managed to thankfully put on a few pounds before I started chemo, but I've lost roughly 7 pounds since then, if my bathroom scale is to be believed. As long as I don't start looking like Perry fuckin' Farrell, all's good. That little gnome freaks me out.