"I do not think WE know our own strength until we have seen how strong Love makes us." - Curly Girl Design (Thanks, Kris Wruk)
Warning...this is a long entry. You may want to grab a drink or go to the bathroom before you get started. Sorry, I promise it is not even as close to as long as the day was....
Today was a long day before it even got out of bed. Anticipation for chemo started the day I heard I had cancer again. I found out last week what "cocktail" I would receive and had a full understanding of what would happen. It's like they whip up a recipe to kill your cancer, but the potion kills so much more. Times have changed so much since my first journey...I have changed so much...but the drugs that work are still the same. Protocol for my type of breast cancer is typically four rounds of chemo, my doctor and I have chosen to be aggressive...as long as my body can take it. Six rounds of chemo are on my calendar over the next several months. I will go every third Thursday and receive the two following drugs. First up on my list is Taxotere and then Cytoxan. In 2000, I had one additional drug called Adriamycin, but due to the impact that it has on your heart, I would not be eligible to take it again at this time. I'm happy to not get the "red devil", as it is called, but I'm nervous about Taxotere. Taxol, it's sister drug, kicked my butt last time around. The thing about chemo is that you take what the doctor tells you is going to work. It's like eating dinner at your parents' house as a kid...you eat what mom made for dinner...there's no menu here! Chemotherpy is a drug treatment that uses powerful chemicals to kill fast-growing cells in your body. Though chemotherapy is an effective way to treat many types of cancer, treatment also carries risks of side effects. These side effects are what cause the most fear in my heart and mind.
If you read my earlier post, "Jumping Ahead 10 Days", you know that the morning was difficult. Lots of tears and anxiety filled my heart, head, and home. Somehow I managed to pull myself together, put on a little makeup, comfy clothes and drive to mom and dad's. I can honestly say that I don't remember what happened between leaving my house and getting to the hospital. I had to be there by 9 am to check in for surgery to insert my port. Do you know what a port is? A portacath (port) is a small medical appliance that is installed beneath the skin. A catheter connects the port to a vein. Under the skin, the port has a septum through which drugs can be injected and blood samples can be drawn many times, usually with less discomfort than a normal "needle stick". (I completely pulled that description from the paperwork). To be honest, I was 100% against a port. I chose to go the old-fashioned way in 2000/2001...straight to the veins with a needle. There is no logical reason for this, but things just aren't logical these days. Dr. Robinson insisted on the port, so here I am getting a port. Last month if I were to ask you the question "do you know what a port is?"...I would have hopefully been talking about wine.
Of course, we were early, I like to hurry up and wait! We go through the maze of the hospital until we find the little room in the basement for waiting. It only took a minute to get mom seated with my bag of goodies for everyone and they called me back. It wasn't like they walked me back. The man at the desk simply said take a right out the door and head all the way down to the double doors. It was one if those walks where you feel like you've been walking forever, but in reality it was close to the waiting room. Once in the preparation room I had my bandages changed from the biopsy the day before, was given an IV, met with the doctor who would insert my port so he could mark the area, met with nurse Mike to talk about the procedure, changed, etc. A lot was happening quickly. Into surgery I went.
It is always strange when you get a scan, a mammogram, chemo, surgery, etc...the patient is completely bare and vulnerable, but the person performing the procedure is in full gear. Mike had on his radiation proof vest, mask, gloves, etc. you would think they are going to war with all the gear they are wearing. Yet, here I sit with nothing on of that nature. Just like when the MRI techs leave the room and talk to you over the speaker. I guess all the contamination is ok for me, but too dangerous for them. I get it, but it is still unnerving. The doctors came in to do the procedure and nurse Roberta was there to help. The doctors were both very handsome. Just my luck, handsome single docs and I have cancer. Roberta had on blue eye shadow that would rival any of my high school days or Pom competitions. It was impressive. She does Jazzercuse and knows my friend Matt. Small world when you ask a lot of questions. Apparently, I ask more questions than most. Mike answered every one, but he may have added to my IV to shut me up. The procedure takes a little under an hour. Two large slits, 20 stitches, a bandage that looks like I had major surgery, and they're ready to ship me off to my next stop. Mike made it very clear that I needed a "responsible driver" to take me home today...crap, I'm screwed...I didn't bring one with me.
When I returned to the waiting room I'm happy to see that my sister is there keeping mom company. She was kind enough to take a couple of days off work to help out. I'm surprised she came back after how long things took yesterday, but I love her for doing it. I have 30 minutes to get to my next appointment and I was starving since I couldn't eat before surgery, so we detoured to the cafeteria and I grabbed a quick grilled cheese sandwich and a Diet Cherry Pepsi. I could only drink Dt. Pepsi though my last chemo, so the choice is probably psychological, but it all tasted great. We then headed to the next building for my 11:30 AM appointment with Dr. Robinson. I walked over. Chris took the shuttle because she was stuck carrying my bag that weighs too much. I think Mom was walking behind me, but I'm not 100% sure on that. I reached the waiting area, checked in, waited, and enjoyed my sandwich. Of course, I made eye contact with the lady near me, so I was stuck in a conversation that I had no interest in being a part of...does she not see the huge bandage on my chest or realize that I am starting chemo at 2 PM...small talk is low on my list of things to do.
So far today, I have received about 50 texts of support, emails of encouragement, and calls with love. Word was getting around, post on Facebook, email chains, etc. Social media really kicked in today and I'm not sure that I am ready for it, but I have bigger fish to fry. An email and some text came from the most unlikely sources...while I was shocked to receive them, I appreciate the kind thoughts and words...time does heal most wounds.
Mom joined me in the wait and then I was called in. I had planned on going in alone, but Mom wanted to meet the doctor. I forgot that she had not met her because Cindi came with me for those appointments. We were placed in the room and we waited. Mom gets frustrated while we wait, but I am almost always ok with waiting. If you have a doctor that will give you all the time you need and answer your questions, she/he is well worth waiting for. I look at it this way, if she doesn't rush me, she is not rushing others. They are just as important as I am, they may be going through worse, they may just have more questions. I am not patient with most things, but I will wait for a doctor that I respect. When Dr. Robinson came to the room she answered every question and then sent me on my way upstairs for the infusion center. Mom really liked her, so that is a bonus...what's not to like!?!?
We reached the top of the stairs and I was relieved to see that Gina and Stephanie had arrived...I like to travel with an entourage. :) Steph had several pink bags full of goodies. I don't know where I would be with out my family and amazing friends. They are my ROCKS, my heart, my soul!
When I walked out of radiation in 2001, Steph and Gina were there and now they are here to walk me back into treatment. We went full circle, but it appears we went backwards in some ways...seems like something the three of us would do. We have been through so much together since college...the good, the bad, and the ugly...this is actually just one of the bad thing, we've gone through worse...but we always laugh along the route...often we laugh at each other...more often we laugh at/with Gina!! :) What would I do without my girls???? I don't plan on ever finding out...we are going to all grow old together...granted they'll grow older first because I'm the youngest of the group!
The five of us gathered and waited for my name to be called. I can only take one person back with me and now I have four that I want to take. I think we all knew who would be the first to go, but we didn't speak about it. We sat and joked around, teased Gina (because we LOVE her), and waited with anticipation. "Susan?"...they called my name...deep breaths...deep breaths...deep breaths...time to go. We all walked up to the counter, even though we were not all going in. I tried to keep the situation ok by joking with everyone..."Ward, party of 5". The receptionist laughed, we all laughed...all I wanted to do was melt, cry, kick, scream...I don't want to go back there. I don't want to start chemo. Are we sure this isn't a huge mistake? My eyes were welling up, but I needed to be strong.
Time to go back, so I looked at my entourage and said "Steph, let's go." I know that this may have hurt my Mom's feelings, but I actually did this for her. I knew it was going to be hard for me, I knew I would cry, and I didn't want my Mom to see how scared I was. Hugs and kisses good-bye. I'll be here for awhile, so they will all get a turn to hang out with the patient. My nurse's name is Katie. She's young, bubbly, and sweet. Seems like a good match and we are going to get along just fine. She takes us straight back to a chair with a smaller chair and a stool next to it. There's a small tv on the wall, a table next to my chair, and a man with his wife getting chemo in the chair next to me. Katie started getting things situated. Stephanie pulled out the first pink bag with a small vase holding a dozen pink roses from the boys. She placed it on the table next to me...she likes to bling things up! They were beautiful and the cards they wrote were adorable. Katie walked away to get something and it all hit me...I'm starting chemo, again. How the hell did we get here, again. I looked at Steph and started crying, WE started crying. She hugged me tightly so I could let it all out. And she just kept saying "it's going to be okay. you're going to be okay. WE will all get through this together." I just said "I don't want to do this." Simple statement and a fact. I know that I will be ok in the long run, but I'm not ready for this part of the journey. Katie pulled the curtain that was between us and the man receiving chemo. Clearly she saw that I needed my own space to process all that was happening.
We wiped our tears and Katie started my first IV. It will take about 30 minutes to mix my "cocktails" and get chemo actually started, but there are other things that go into the IV to keep me from getting sick from chemo. The anticipation of feeling the first flow of the IV is killing me...
Next pink bag comes in to play...Stephanie's parents sent a fantastic, pink, leopard print, soft blanket. Perfect for when things get cold. Then the third pink bag...a Pink Cubs shirt that says "Play Ball" on the back...I think it may have killed Stephanie, a Sox fan, to purchase a Cubs shirt...but, it's time to "Play Ball" in this game called cancer...she loves me, she really loves me!!! ;)
Time for my first "cocktail". As Katie started the bag, I said "Perfect!!! I was hoping you'd bring me a Grey Goose dirty martini with extra blue cheese olives." She laughed, we all laughed...I needed to laugh! Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths...time to start the drip of Taxotere.
Stephanie and I lost track of time and we were getting text from the lobby. Time for my next visitors. My "longest friend" Jennifer was in the lobby with the entourage. Jennifer had a doctor's appointment at Loyola and stopped by to visit. I call her my "longest friend" because we have been friends the longest...since we were 4. To call her my "oldest friend" makes us sound old. She and I have been through a lot together. While we don't see each other as much as we should, I know we would drop everything if the other needed something. Jennifer is 11 days younger than I am and had a heart attack in May...heart issues and cancer...two things we should not be dealing with at our age. We sat around and talked for awhile. Mostly about Taylore, her daughter and my Godchild...she's getting ready to go off to college and have some fun. While we sat there and talked I thought about how strange it must be to be sitting talking to someone who is hooked up to IVs that you know are going to make her sick before it makes her better. Chris and Gina also came in. Before you knew it, we were all there. It was getting late in the day and the infusion center had started to empty out, so my entourage started taking over. My second "cocktail" was soon started...a "French Martini"...Cindi's favorite...or as Katie called it, Cytoxan.
The strangest thing, I don't really remember my Mom coming back to sit with me. I'm sure that she did because I remember hearing all about the two cats that my Dad rescued and brought into their house that day...little Priscilla and her kitty Holly had joined the Ward household...lucky, soon to be spoiled cats. I think the cats helped Mom and Dad cope on this scary day...lots of conversation around the cats. Jennifer headed out to go home. Stephanie headed out to go to baseball games. The four of us were left behind and waited for the drugs to finish entering my system. I think it was around 5:30 when when we left. Exhausted, tired, emotionally drained, but done with the first round of "cocktails".
I said my goodbyes and then got into the car with my "responsible driver", Mom. Traffic wasn't too bad, I was hungry, so we headed to Jimmy Johns for an un-wich and then stopped by Kohl's to see if they had the scarf I had been looking for....I needed to get home soon. Dad was at my house when we returned...it was good to see my #1 guy hanging out with my two, four-legged boys.
Finally, home and to bed. My body is tired. My mind is tired. I'm emotionally drained. My body hurts from surgery, so I don't know how I am going to get comfortable, but I'll try. The strange thing about chemo, for me, is that I felt fine when we left the building, but I know what is coming. I cried myself to sleep tonight because life is getting overwhelming. Sleep well my friends.
One round of chemo down...5 to go...
XOXO,
Sue
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| Me getting my first round of chemo. Stephanie took a picture and made sure that I smiled. BIG bandage from port surgery. Comfy pants from Suzanne & Bill. I few more hours to go and I will be done. |
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| Roses from Maxwell and Jackson to sit on the table next to me during chemo. |
What a journey you are taking Sue. Thank God for your family and friends! You are so brave. Keep thinking positive! I'm praying hard for you!! Donna M., your Epcot friend :)
ReplyDeleteHi, Donna! I was looking at Epcot pictures today! I should have bought some of the ears to cover my head. I appreciate your note and prayers. I hope that you and your family are doing well!
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