And So It Begins...

Today is my first day of chemotherapy.  Mostly, I’m glad this day has come and we are now turning the tides on the cancer that, until a few hours ago, was growing ominously in my left breast and could have decided to spread in nasty ways.  Of course, I can’t know for sure the cancer cells are breaking down and ceasing their growth until the next round of tests, but I have a good feeling about the treatment.

I’ve never seen anyone receive chemotherapy treatment, so I thought I’d share a little about it for those of you who are as blissfully ignorant as I was.  (And I hope you get to stay that way!)  My day started with a blood draw at 10 am to check my current health.  Going in without a drop of odd chemicals in my body, I was, not surprisingly, very healthy.  Then I met with my doctor, whom I adore, and the nurse who is helping to coordinate my care.  She’s a hoot and likes to use highly technical jargon like “More research means more neat stuff!”  She also gave me my prescription for a cranial prosthesis, a.k.a. a wig. On most days, I’ll just do the blood draw and then head up to the 5^th floor for chemo.

The floor where they are administering the drug infusions (the chemo) has over 50 private rooms, or “bays.”  Today, I’m in #39 with a very sweet nurse named Inna.  I’m lying in a hospital bed connected to the pump through the port in my chest. Josh is reading next to me in a recliner, and the curtain is pulled for privacy.  Other than the pump and the gentle murmur of nurses and patients in other rooms, it’s quiet. I have a warm blanket to cover my legs since I wore a fancy dress and heels today (why not?!) There’s a TV, and down the hall is a “Nourishment Center” stocked with goodies like ginger ale and string cheese. It could be worse. I haven’t decided if I like the term “bay” yet.  Though, it fits since I now have a portside, as my friend Penny quipped about the port implanted in my chest.  So, I guess that makes me the S.S. Blondie Shortcakes hanging out in the bay, anchored on my portside.

Today is a long haul, longer than other days. The first drug infusion started at 2:45 pm.  It’s now 7 pm and we still have about 2 hours to go.  Most infusion periods will only be about 3-4 hours instead of 6.  Today was also an anomaly in that I was given drugs like Benadryl to neutralize allergic reactions.  That knocked me out at first and I asked Josh to take my computer away so that I didn’t accidentally send incoherent emails to my clients.  I think I’m coherent now, though looking at the earlier paragraph, I noticed I did write something about S.S. Blondie Shortcakes, so there might still be a touch of Benadryl in my system.

So far, it’s not bad.  My body seems to be reacting well.  It’s somewhat surreal and a little humiliating to have to wheel my infusion pump with me to use the restroom, but otherwise I’m comfortable. After we go home tonight, all we can do is wait for side effects to pop up over the course of the next few days.  Maybe nothing!  Or maybe a lot of things.  We’ll see. Treatments will be every week for the first 12 weeks, then every other week for the remaining 8 weeks, for a total of 16 treatments.

I was very anxious about today, but so many people texted, emailed, and FB messaged that I felt very loved.  I saw a lot of friends over the last weekend and soaked up love that way, too. Thank you. I am also carried by the wonderful news that I am now an auntie.  My little niece, Ivy Ann, was born two days ago, a healthy 7 lb 13 oz bundle of love.  I’m so happy for my bro- and sis-in-law, and for our whole family. Life goes on…

My niece, Ivy Ann, after only a few hours in this big, bright world of ours