Cancer Butt Sweat

Gross.

 So nice. So round. So... juicy.

That's kind of chemo's modus operandi. Whatever might seem lovely, virtuous, of good report or praiseworthy in our bodies, chemo seeks it out and gleefully destroys it.

One of the first items on chemo's to-do list: completely obliterate your gastrointestinal tract.

Yeah. All of that.

Most forms of chemotherapy include at least one or two drugs that attack fast-dividing cells (e.g. lymphoma). Guess what other cells divide super fast? Pretty much all of them along the entire pathway food takes through your system.

I've talked about the mouth pain, rawness and nasty-@$$ taste that chemo causes. That's fairly safe territory for most of polite society. You're probably not going to get kicked out of a dinner party for discussing tastebuds.

Once we leave the mouth, things change. Fast.

Nausea is common. Vomiting and/or dry heaving is a thing. Diarrhea AND constipation happen to pretty much everyone. You can flip-flop between the two so quickly that you get the digestive equivalent of whiplash.

Flatulence. Yep. Of course.

And it's not just the indignity of having these issues. Everything that comes out of you is DISGUSTING. The odors are indescribable, un-duplicatable, undeniable.

It's bad, y'all. Real bad.

One side effect that I haven't seen mentioned much (read, at all) is cancer butt sweat. Perhaps this is unique to me, but one of the worst and most embarrassing things I've dealt with is how bad my butt reeks. It's a combination of chemo sweat (another thing), digestive issues, and the fact that chemo causes fatigue that can make it difficult to shower daily.

Honestly, y'all, I take a shower, towel off, and I'm utterly winded. Knackered.

So. Tired.

And your butt gets raw. I know those flushable wipes are terrible for the sewers (see fatbergs), but sometimes they are the only solution. Oh, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to invest in Gold Bond Medicated Powder. It's the only thing that stands between me and social ostracization.

Is that a word?

It's stuff like this that makes even the most gregarious of cancer patients just want to bury themselves away from people. Bad enough that your chemo brain can cause social gaffes galore. If you're constantly worried that your smell could kill a horse, there's absolutely no desire to be in public.

No. Wait. Come back. I love you.

And isolation kills. I mean that at least partially in a literal sense. Depression and anxiety go hand-in-hand with cancer and chemo or radiation therapy. Add becoming a hermit to that equation and you get nothing good.

So, what to do? Well, there's a host of drugs that can help with the nausea, vomiting, diarrhea and constipation. Actually, some of those pills can be part of the problem--the nausea medication can clog up the works occasionally, and if you're taking any kind of opiates, that's just a given. But managing each symptom on a day-by-day, issue-by-issue basis can help. But it does take consistent effort and brainpower (that you no longer have, thanks to chemo brain. Thanks, Todd) to make sure you're staying on top of it.

Diet's a big one. Fiber's good. Fibrous foods, however, can hurt your mouth (see above).

So, blend. I've just started blending a lemon and a lime together with water to consume first thing in the morning (peel and all). It seems to be helping a lot. It's not tasty, but that's okay. Your tastebuds are shot anyway.

Added fiber foods can help. I'm a fan of Great Grains Double Fiber and Honey wheat bread. But the best stuff is just the fruits and vegetables that you can buy anywhere. If it's too hard or tough, maybe consider blending or juicing (juicing gives the nutrients without the fiber, which isn't maybe ideal, but can help with things like carrots and celery).

Also, when you're eating something that makes you feel nauseated, stop eating that thing. If you get nauseated afterward, maybe experiment a couple of times to see if it's consistent (something else may have caused the upset).

Don't eat your favorite foods.

So much goodness. So many problems afterward.

This is a tough one for me. I haven't had sushi since I started into treatments. There are a couple reasons for that. Raw fish can be problematic if your neutrophils (white blood cells) are low, which mine are.

But the real issue, at least as far as I'm concerned, is that you can start to associate your fab faves with the nausea of chemotherapy. Yikes. No thank you.

Wet wipes, not just for your after toilet use, but for the sake of hygiene. Here are some that are nice and soft with a lovely scent.

I mentioned Gold Bond powder. They also have a spray that can help with application.

One that I haven't tried yet but that I'm dying (okay, perhaps not the best word choice here) to try. It's called Anti Monkey Butt Powder. I want it, if only just for the name.

I'm beginning to think I need to make some sort of post or page that lists everything I've tried and how they worked. Hm. Research. Sounds fun.

Maybe tomorrow. I'm tired.

I took a shower today.
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Coming in our next entry--chemo makes mosquitoes die! Woot!

Srsly. What is the point of them?

Next post.