After an emotional day of hair cutting, I didn’t know how I would feel about actually going in to get my infusion. The night before, one of my best friends, Jen, flew in from DC, to go with me to my first appointment. I think that is one of the reasons the day went so well and I didn’t have much time to simmer in my own thoughts.
I started the day with quick jaunt to the mall (one of my favorite places) with my mom and Jen and then headed over for my appointment. We had lunch, which was actually not bad, in the cafeteria, and then took the stairs up one flight to go check-in.
They finally called my name and we walked into the chemotherapy section…aka chemo row. I called it something a lot worse, but for the sake of this public blog, I will call it chemo row. Since it was my first time, they showed me where everything was, where I could find food and drinks and what bathrooms my guests could and could not use (Yes, people who are not there for chemo have to use a different bathroom because us sickos are toxic). As we walked through the three sections, the first person I saw was a lady who had a huge contraption on her head. I’m not sure what it was, but I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. By the time we got to my seat in the back of chemo row, I was freaked out and crying.
I settled down and my nurse explained what the day was going to be like–she needed to hook up my port, give me IV fluids and then chemo after that.
All went well with the port and people are right, it doesn’t hurt as bad as an IV. I would suggest it if you ever have a procedure where you needed one.
After I received IV fluids it was time for the poison to be put in my body. It is so weird to sit somewhere and let them make you sick. It is hard to explain the mental toll this takes on you. Physically I felt fine except for being freezing cold and having to go to the bathroom all the time because of all the liquids that were being pumped into me. It’s like giving someone permission to beat you up, if that makes any sense.
After about four hours I was told I was done and I walked out of chemo row a different person than I was before–now I had a poisonous cocktail running through my veins.
I definitely feel the effects of my treatment when I wake up every morning. I’m usually a little queasy, my bones ache like I was in a bad car accident and my mouth is always dry. While those changes I can feel, there are things that I’m sitting back and waiting for and I think that builds up a lot of angst in me. Will I wake up one day and my eyebrows will be gone? Will the chemo destroy my digestive system and force me to stay home while I get it under control? It’s an odd place to be.
For the most part, I feel ok. I get tired and I have thrown up, but I think this is just the beginning. I believe that my health will start to plummet over the next week or so and then each treatment will become harder and harder.
My mom has been amazing and having Jen here was more than I could’ve asked for. They did a great job of not letting me get into my own head, but took care of me when I needed it.
So, I wait some more for the next waive of side effects to hit me, but in the meantime, the in between time, I am trying to go about my normal day.
Oh–I almost forgot–thank you to Dave, Corrie, Kristine, Sylvia, Michelle, Karen, Kate, Jen, Jason, Margo, Vanessa, Kathleen, Heather, Kyle and Linda, thank you for your gifts! You guys are awesome xoxoxo