Chemo Is Not For Wussies-Part 1

“ Do not take life too seriously. You’ll never get out of it alive.”-Elbert Hubbard

Photo by Beatriz Pérez Moya on Unsplash

The next step in my saga is to determine how to eliminate the bad cells in those three lymph nodes. My oncologist coincidentally has the same last name as a notorious serial-killer. I decided it would be best to assume any murderous skill he has is focused on killing cancer and not his patients. However, if he chooses to laugh maniacally while he is torturing those cells, it’s okay with me. In fact, I may join him. I had a pretty wicked cackle as Grandma Addams when I was in Addams Family the Musical. Maybe even throw in a few “double, double toil and trouble” so those cells know they are facing the same fate as Macbeth. Therefore, I will now think of my oncologist as the one who killed Macbeth. So, “Lay on, MacDuff!” Let’s decapitate those cells!!!!! MacDuff: “Mu-wa-ha-ha-HA!” Me: “Heeee-he-he-he-HA!”

MacDuff explained the standard chemo plan for my situation. Four sessions of chemo infusion spaced 21 days apart which would take approximately four months. He continued with what my chemo cocktail would contain. Naturally, my ears perked up with mention of cocktail. Well, make mine a beer margarita with a double Tequila shot, please! Unfortunately, beer and tequila was not on the list for this particular cocktail. He scheduled my first session the following week. 

The night before my first infusion I will admit I was anxious and had some trouble sleeping. After all, they would be pumping chemicals into me designed to kill things in my body. What if there was a mix up when creating my cocktail? That’s how evil super villains are born! Of course, I’m being silly. If I must be an evil super villain, please let it be CatWoman or Mystique. Still hoping for those super powers. At this point, I don’t care if they are for good or evil.

I arrived at the infusion center and was ushered into a room where I would be staying for the approximate 6-8 hours it would take. Due to the pandemic, only one patient per room. First order of business was inserting IV. Thankfully, I have easy veins that have no issues of being found or jabbed. Then it’s a blood draw which is immediately sent to the lab for analysis. Once it is returned and it doesn’t reveal any outrageous concerns for not proceeding, the first infusion begins! First on the list is a liter of fluids that takes about an hour and required a trip to the bathroom immediately after.

First, I had a visitor, but she wasn’t wearing nurse attire. She introduced herself and pulled the tray table in front of me. She sat on the other side and plopped an 8x12 three inch thick folder on the table. She opened it to reveal everything I ever needed to know about chemo. I thought that’s a lot of reading. Guess I didn’t need to bring my book. However, her purpose apparently was not just to deliver my Chemo Bible, but go through it with me. Page. By. Page. At times, she would pull out a highlighter to mark a paragraph.

I did not go to Catholic school, but started to picture her as my Chemo Nun that was determined that I would be getting a proper education. This instruction took an hour and a half. She went through my chemo schedule and the description of each drug I would be receiving including all the possible side effects. Essentially, this may cure you, but here are all the things it could do to kill you. How reassuring. 

Then it was on to all the resources available to me. The one I was most interested in was free massages! Unfortunately, the pandemic shut down that service. Thanks, Covid. There was lots of concern expressed about my mental and emotional well-being. Have I been depressed? Anxious? At that moment, I was a bit anxious she would be giving me a test at the end of class. 

Did I feel the need to talk to anyone? Uhh, about what? To help alleviate your concerns and any dark moods. Oh, Chemo Nun, you do not know me. I love talking to myself ALL the time and honestly I think I am hysterical! If I joined a support group, I’m afraid I would eventually be told I wasn’t welcome for not taking my situation seriously. Jeez, if I can’t joke, laugh and find the humor about it then I would be depressed! Chemo Nun completed her tutorial. I signed off that she did her job well, which she did. The Chemo Bible went home with me.

The rest of the day went like this: bag of steroid and anti-nausea drugs infused takes 30-45 minutes, then another bag of fluid takes an hour, pee again, first chemo drug infused takes 15 minutes, wait 20 minutes, second chemo drug (this is the uber cancer cell killer) infused takes about an hour, pee break, third bag of fluid another hour. Then home. Back the next day and day after for two bags of fluid and steroid infusion.

Next episode will be about the weird and not so wonderful weeks after the first infusion.