This is your brain on chemo

In 1998, there was a memorable Public Service Announcement for a Drug-Free America starring Rachael Leigh Cook in which she smashed her way around a kitchen with a frying pan demonstrating how drugs affects lives. I doubt the line “any questions?” has ever been said with such memorable authority.

No doubt there were dozens of PSAs that I’ve managed to remember over the years, some of which still have influenced me.

Note: if you lived in California in the early 90s, you will recall a water shortage due to severe drought conditions. There were days when you were to “shower with a friend,” which believe it or not wasn’t an effort created by the porn industry. There was also the PSA in which a little kid is brushing his teeth and leaving the water faucet on while doing so. The camera cuts to a fish in the ocean, with the ocean water level going further and further down before cutting back to the kid who is still carelessly letting the water faucet go while brushing his teeth.

This PSA created a harbor of water conservation paranoia in me since then.

Recalling PSA comparisons of splattered fried eggs to drug-addled brains, I cannot help but see a connection to my own current state.

It is a mildly humorous thought that chemicals and narcotics are drained and fed into my body under the guise of shrinking a lung mass and killing off mutated cells.

Aren’t these the things that people would do recreationally that we’ve been told our entire lives not to do?

In completing research about the side effects of chemotherapy, there is one phenomenon called “chemo fog,” which also includes a few other terms including “chemo brain.” Essentially, there is a lack of mental clarity when undergoing chemo, which includes short-term memory loss, difficulty in remembering details, lack of multi-tasking skills, feeling disorganized, forgetting words, and just “spacing out” (see this link for other fun facts).

The scarier part about this phenomenon is that doctors do not understand why this occurs.

Let’s review.

We are not surprised that hitting one’s head in an accident could possibly cause cognitive impairment or irreversible damage to the brain. However, it’s unknown why there is a lack of lucidity after pumping a human with toxic chemicals that are killing off cells, including healthy good ones?

Perhaps in my own chemo fog, I find this concept ludicrous: a big fat “duh”.

So, have I experienced any of the effects of “chemo fog”? The answer is a resounding yes. Or, let’s just say, if there were a time for blonde jokes, this would be it.

I feel like myself but off.

Not remembering the day of the week? I blame it on chemo fog, not sheer laziness.

Writing things down in my day planner because appointments come into my head, don’t process fully, and then float back out? I call it a good habit for a brain that doesn’t want to hold as much anymore.

Going downstairs for something, then forgetting what it was, going back upstairs, remembering, and then going downstairs again? Chemo fog AND exercise.

According to The Chemotherapy Survival Guide by Judith McKay and Tamera Schacher, a theory is that “chemotherapy can cause direct toxic injury to brain cells.” This book is an interesting resource and even includes a chapter with a section devoted to chemo fog. While it’s not a comforting topic, it’s a positive step that researchers are devoting time to finding ways to prevent cognitive impairment due to chemotherapy.

So, remember kids, don’t do drugs (unless the doctors specifically instruct you to do so). Many cells within our bodies reproduce, but brain cells are the highfaluting bastards that just want to keep to themselves, not reproduce, die alone, and leave you cognitively stranded.

If Rachael Leigh Cook was doing a PSA for “chemo fog,” she’d thrash around the kitchen with a frying pan, but she’d then misplace the pan and forget what she was doing.

This is your brain on chemo.

What was I supposed to do Friday again…?

Postscript: You might be wondering how I can write all these blogs without sounding like a Neanderthal. Since I’m a library student who writes research papers, I’m a stickler for good prose. With my own “chemo fog,” I review my writing multiple times to ensure that what I say makes sense and is structured in an orderly manner. I even complete them first in MS Word, then copy and paste the words into a blog posting. Admittedly, there are times when I publish one, I’ll review it and find flaws. Call me a perfectionist, but this is how I function.