Chemo Day One

So, it’s chemo day. It feels surreal and frightening. I have an uneasy sense of subjecting myself to something hazardous, for in my native Norway, chemo is literally called “Cell Poison,” and that doesn’t sit well. The alternative is allowing cancer cells to proliferate without opposition. That is not an option.

I declined all offers of support, or of a ride to the infusion center, feeling that more than anything, I have to focus, as if that would help me process this. Having cancer still doesn’t feel real, and I don’t see myself as “a cancer patient.”

After I signed in, I sat down to wait, but as I searched my purse for something I don’t remember now, my gaze drifted to a pair of high healed boots and the wheeled carry-on of a person who suddenly stood infront of me.

Carmen! We have been friends from the first day of medical school…decades ago now, and although she lives on the other side of the country, I was shocked to see her, but not really surprised. She has done utterly amazing things before. Through all the phases of our lives, our friendship has remained a constant and abundant blessing, and a treasure I will always cherish.

Her words to me were: “Do you really think I would let you go through this alone?”

She knew better than to ask if she could come, but now that she was here, I dared to breathe. She asked all the questions I needed to ask, but might not have, and with her there, the fear dialed down a few notches.

I had taken a hefty dose of a steroid as premedication at home, and here, there were a few others, each one administered by IV over a designated period of time.

When the two chemotherapeutic agents were started, Cytoxan and Taxotere, I was nervous, but time drifted by as the toxic substance dripped into my veins, and I realized that I felt nothing. I was given ample documentation about about both drugs, their use, their side effects, and what to expect, but what stuck in my mind is that these drugs would weaken me, they could cause miserable neuropathy, and that my hair would someday soon…. just fall out.

To keep my white blood cells from being destroyed by the chemo, making me more susceptible to infection than I already am, I was given Neulasta. The medication was to be administered automatically in 37 hours, by a small auto injector which was taped to my body, and that I could peel off once the medication was administered.

 

I was also given medication for nausea, and advised to start taking it before symptoms start, since it is easier to prevent symptoms than to suppress them.

I remember leaving, feeling weary, but generally fine.

Now…what will tomorrow bring as the chemotherapeutic agents get to work?

 

Things to bring to a chemo session:

Bring food…something that does not have an odor that could offend patients who might not be feeling well. For the same reason, don’t wear perfume or cologne. The type of food I would recommend could simply be crackers, dried fruit, nuts, and a drink in a spill proof container, preferably water.

Not knowing that Carmen would be there, I brought a copy of C.W. Gortner’s wonderful book, “Mademoiselle Chanel,” and a draft of my own novel, “The Apothecary’s Niece,” but with Carmen there, we were deep in conversation, the hours flew, and I didn’t read a thing.

Next entry coming soon!