Thursday, November 7th came upon us like a freight train, leaving behind the memory of our trip with the family somewhere out in the dust, but I had those few days to get me through another session; memories of seeing everyone and knowing they knew I was really okay and still feeling the sting of being slaughtered in all the card games we played late into those two evenings.
If memory serves, this was the day we brought a batch of Lemon Brownies as our now customary offering. Oh, they were so de-yummy-licious. And really, isn’t the flavor of lemon just so clean and refreshing? I craved lemon while I was going through my cancer more than I normally do.
As usual, we were the first ones in, by 8:30am and it was the usual routine–get blood drawn and tested to make sure I was ready for my session, see the doctor for a few minutes to discuss the results and for a general Q&A session. But it was with Dr. P. Dr. David was on vacation. Doctor P was the one who, when he saw how disfigured I was from all that swelling, when I was still in the hospital, reassured me it was only cosmetic and it would return to normal. He also was astounded that I was still taking a daily Uloric tablet. That was to treat the possibility of Tumor Lysis, a condition similar to gout, where the sloughed off tumor could crystallize around my joints. He said it’s one of those things that sometimes doctors forget to mention. It wasn’t harmful to keep taking it, only unnecessary since it’s usually stopped after the second treatment.
Then we waited for one of my nurses to come in to prep me for my session with an “okay, a little pinch” and then jabbing the IV needle into my port, get settled in my Chemo chair and wait until either Bea or Kay came over to get me started.
First thing, as always, was the initial flush of saline through the IV which I could taste and despised. It was like a pistol going off at the start of a relay race. Then came the Benadryl and the Zofran and in a little while, “make sure you take the Tylenol”. “Did you take the Tylenol?” “I took it, just like you told me..”
Of course we had to stop because, again, the drip began at too high a rate and it made me queasy but after a few moments and some more Zofran I was set back to simmer.
And as usual we were the last ones out for the day, sometime between 3:30 and 4pm and it was time for the cautious ride to the drug store, full of intrigue and mystery–would I need Ariel to pull over so I could be sick?. Would I have to suddenly pee and would I get to my pee bottle in time? “Do you want to come with me or do you want me to drop you at home?” “I’ll go. I’ll be fine. I have my bucket and my bottle”. And he’d park at a remote location in the parking lot so the odds for a little extra privacy, just in case, were greater.
Friday afternoon came and it was time for my Neulasta shot and the waiting period began to see when and where the bone pains would hit. Would it be my thighs again, or my hips? Maybe my forearms or my ankles so I could barely stand. Just please, not my breastbone again. Of all the spots that flared up, that was the worst. I didn’t want to ask to die again.
Ten days later, of course it was mid-point check up day and there was a question whether session number 6 would occur as scheduled, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, November 27, because it fell inside the three week period and would the insurance company allow it.
The appointment was approved and we got on the schedule, but sadly, it would not be with Dr. David because Wednesdays are his day to for rounds at the hospital. I felt rather sad and in some odd way, it felt anti-climactic. It was my final session and my doctor, my hero, was not going to be there with me. But I had my nurses as usual so that was fine.
But the day went as it usually did only this time the confection was mini no-bake pumpkin cheesecakes with a gingersnap crust, just in time for Thanksgiving. And at the end of the day, as I was about 20 minutes from being released from my confines, one of the nurses suddenly remembered it was Dr David’s birthday, this day he was doing rounds and she called him up. Naturally I chimed in to wish him a happy birthday and I think we all sang to him over the phone. So, in way, he was with me on my final day after all.
Turkey Day was low key, just us and my mother, no fuss no muss and Friday, of course was shot day, but this time we were meeting with Wednesday’s doctor at the hospital, on the Oncology Floor. It was my final shot, at least that’s what we were holding out for and one at a time we were called in to an empty room to get our shots. Dr. Wednesday was not as gentle as the nurses usually were and I felt that shot going in. In face, if I close my eyes and think, I can still feel it. What was he thinking?
But the highlight of that day was when we first got to our floor, who did we cross paths with but Nurse Niki! It was a happy moment for sure and we chatted for a bit and by chance the other nurse who was my second favorite was also on duty that day.
They both thanked me for the “wonderful” letter I’d written to the head nurse about them and the entire staff on that floor. It was posted on the bulletin board in the nurse’s lounge. She said she cried when she read it and then, of course, a tear fell down my cheek as well. But they both needed to tend to their patients and we said our “so-longs” and one more hug and I went to wait with the others until it was my turn for my shot.