In the Chemo Lounge: One hour (out of 5) to go on my drug infusion cocktail... happy hour, so to speak.
Here we are now. Entertain us.
The last drug in the mix today is the Taxol, and it heats me up. For the last several hours I've had socks, hat, blanket, and a sweater on. Now, the Taxol streams into my veins and warms me from the inside, from my feet up. Off come the socks and blanket, sweater too. If I can stand it, I'll keep the hat on, though sweat is prickling my upper lip. I haven't done too much publicly with my bald head, though this is a pretty good place to test drive the dome, really...
There are two others in the Lounge now. One guy is here for his weekly Morphine drip. He talks a little, but tells me apologetically that he's really druggy and out of it. His wife is here with him. She tells me about her own Taxol experience -- 5 years ago, she was the one on the pokey end of the IV, her husband the buddy. She tells me she is just now getting feeling back in her feet and fingers. She opens my bottled waters for me.
Across from me is another survivor. She has her own hair & is getting her weekly Herceptin. She's me this time next year...
Earlier an older woman was seated beside me, on my right. She got a drip from an Orange Tang-colored drug. Adriamycin? I sneak peaks at her hair, but can't tell if it is hers or a wig. When asked if she wanted a Lidocaine shot before the port was tapped, she said no. As she sipped her boxed apple juice, ate her Chips Ahoy, and read George W. Bush's memoir, I sat in silent awe of her bad-ass-ness. Later, he son comes for her, and she glides away with her walker, tennis balls on the back stoppers.
5 empty Laz-E-Boys today; it's a slow day. I listen to the nurses comment on how nice and peaceful it is. I learn Friday is a good/predictable day. Have no idea what that really means.
For me, this is Taxol #9. Nine out of 12. I'm rounding 3rd and heading for home. For so long it felt like I was just getting going on this journey; now it's becoming old hat. Once the Taxol trip is done, I'll switch cocktails (FEC-H, for anyone playing along at home) for another 3 rounds, spaced over 9 weeks. Then a wee break, then surgery, then another break to build mobility in my left shoulder again, then radiation to my breast (or lack of breast) and arm pit (28 doses: Monday thru Friday for five and a half weeks). Herceptin will continue weekly thru next April or May (though the wife of the Morphine guy tells me she got Taxotere for a full year on top of the Herceptin... Hmmm.).
A new patient/survivor arrives and takes the seat next to me. This is her second week of chemo. She's terrified of the pain of the injection into her new port. The nurse talks to her about the Lidocaine cream. Listening in, I learn that you have to really slather it on; they want to have to actually wipe excess cream away (if you want it to be effective at numbing the area, that is). Ah ha. I'll have to try that for my Monday Neupogene beastie. The cream didn't do much for my pain in the past...
Hot now. Hat is off: Behold my bald head; I hear it's a nice shape.
I also have to drag my IV pole to the bathroom. Again. For the 5th time today.
Ok, here we go now...
Entertain us.
