Yesterday in cancer land

Looking back, I was a little skimpy on details yesterday. Sometimes you need a little distance.

Although it was only the second time, it is settling into a routine. I check in, they draw my blood. Dr. B's nurse, Tom, takes my weight and vitals and asks about med changes. Then Dr. B comes in. We chat briefly, he gives me a once over, and provided the blood work was good, which it was, I head into the chemo room.

Since I am first one in, last one out, I get my pick of seats. I took my favored place and we set up shop. When you come for nine hours at a stretch, you don't travel light. Suction pump. Trach care supplies. Nebulizer and saline. Lunch. My Wolfie and heart talisman. The day's newspaper plus pen for puzzle solving. The afghan I'm piecing. Kelly's book to read. We kind of move in.

The first order of business is to plug into my port and check it. I, for one, like the freeze spray. I prefer not to have something jammed through my skin and metal without it. They did a quick port flush and it was deemed great. Then the pumping in begins.

Kelly tracked all the stuff the pump into me, which he'll add on to this at some point. It is hours before they get to the actual chemo.

One advantage of being first is you get to watch everyone else trickle in. By mid-morning, both sides were full up, along with the bedrooms (for patient's too sickly to even sit in a recliner), and those there for basics, like a port flush, were relegated to sitting is a chair next to the nurses' station.  On my side, I was one of only two people with hair. The other lady was having her very first chemo. She wasn't there very long, but she complained a lot.

I know that I am not being fair to her. One, she and her husband were very GQ/Vogue. I know that the fear of looking around and seeing someone about her age that looked like me was probably quite terrifying. Also, I know that if looks were more important to me, the thought of losing my hair, etc. would probably be much more stressful. I also should be more understanding of the fact that all medications affect people differently, and maybe it really did give her a terrible headache, etc. She was in and out in less time than it took us to unpack, so I guess I'm being cranky. My apologies to her.

I got to watch/hear all the people sitting by the nurses station. They were an interesting lot. One was a former nurse, and I half expected her to try to do her port flush herself. She blames long night shifts and stress as a nurse for her cancer. Just before she left, she cavalierly mentioned that she has metastases to several (not good) places, so she'll be in and out a lot. Damn.

By far the most interesting was one particular woman. She was heavy and bald and yet strikingly beautiful. She had two ports. Two. She was possibly going to have treatment depending on her numbers. There was a lengthy discussion about whether or not they should leave the needle in one of the ports in case she was so she wouldn't have to be stuck again. She declined the freeze spray. Ouch! She also mentioned that this wasn't her first rodeo with cancer. With two ports, I figured not. Also, she still works full time. She can't be thirty yet. Damn.

There were a couple of other patients trying to do work from their treatment recliners. I know there are people who work through this. I couldn't. Of course, not being able to speak is a big part of the reason I couldn't, but the fatigue, too. I don't think any of these people were ditch diggers, but still. Damn.

I read the paper and did the puzzles, napped, had lunch, worked the afghan, walked laps, and facebook surfed on my phone. All the while, a nurse would periodically come change out one bag of stuff for another, always dutifully telling me what it was and how long it would take. As if I would know the difference. Good thing Kelly pays attention to such stuff.

Slowly people left, patients and their caregivers. Eventually, it was just us, while nurses left, or tidied up. They actually called from downstairs to make sure I was still there so they didn't lock up. Sigh.

We lugged all of our stuff out to the car and headed home. Karissa was with Heather, so there was just the usual mail to get, dog to feed, dinner, trach cleaning, etc. How a full day of sitting on you rear can be so exhausting is beyond me.

As I mentioned, Jen came while we were gone. Clean sheets and clean floors will do more to lift your spirits than you would believe. Or, in my case, assuage some of your guilt. I feel guilty that my friends are coming to do it, although blessed and thankful that they are, but glad my family doesn't have to suffer in filth or that Kelly has to try to do one more thing on top of everything.

Among the blessings we have that I have probably failed to mention is Kelly's job. We are so thankful for the fact that he has been able to work from home, calling into meetings and doing his work on the computer. I don't know what we would do were it not for this opportunity and the support of his boss and all of his amazing co-workers who make sure that he is kept in the loop, pick up the slack, and water the plants in his office (thanks Holly!).

And, finally, a little political comment. Thank goodness for good health insurance. We would have been bankrupted several times over. Know that if the lifetime cap for insurance hadn't been lifted, we would also have been bankrupted and unable to pay for medical care. Also, if the pre-existing conditions rules hadn't been changed, I likely would have been dumped for being too expensive. I am extremely expensive. The system is far from perfect and we are some of the lucky ones.

Until tomorrow, or Kelly's addendum, whichever comes first.

Kiara