Taking a chemo break
We all hit that wall sometimes. When the labs show that our bodies are just too tired, too banged up for more chemo.
It happened to me yesterday. I waited for my oncologist, worried. I had been told the previous week that my white blood cells and electrolytes had taken huge hits and if there was no sign of improvement after my next chemo, I would have to hold off for a while.
There was no sign of improvement in my electrolytes, but my white blood cells were up a tiny bit. We decided that I could get my chemo this week, but would skip the next week in hopes that by giving my body a little rest, I could get back on it.
I wasn't as bummed out as I thought that I would be. I had prepared myself sufficiently. Plus, I knew how I was feeling. Sooo tired. I sometimes would stand up and sway back and forth in a swooney sort of way until my balance would return and I could wobbly walk, holding on to furniture carefully. It was not fun. Eventually, I would find my sea legs and all would be fine. What bothered me was the expression on other's faces. They looked a little alarmed. More than one person reached their hands out to me, offering an arm to steady me.
I hated that. It made me feel so.....helpless. One woman handled the whole thing beautifully. I had parked in the lot outside my labs and gotten out of my car, standing carefully, holding on to my car door handle until I felt steady. An older woman in bright psychedelic leggings and a black raincoat was waiting at the end of my car. She looked cheerfully at me.
"Well, I just LOVE your car," she said to me. "I always wanted a cherry red bug. And let's see...you have bumper stickers! I LOVE a good bumper sticker. Oh, my! A liberal in this big red cowboy state. Aren't you a brave little hussy! We are going to be good pals, I can see that already! Are you headed to the lab, too? Let's go!"
She held out her arm, placed my arm in hers and off we went. Slowly and surely. She gabbed as we walked, saying that she had been watching the impeachment hearings. Was I watching, too? Wasn't that Trump just a big asshole? God, and his stupid, vacant eyed followers. Icky.
I had my sea legs back by then and we chatted all the way to the lab room and checked in. Turns out we both had chemo, so we sat beside each other and visited while we got it. We even finished at the same time, so walked to our cars together. This time, again....she waited for me to get my balance as I stood up and then walked slowly arm in arm with me.
People like that are wonderful. No fuss. No muss.
So, yeah.....I am on leave from chemo until....you guessed it. The day before Thanksgiving. Luckily, my sister in law isn't having her Thanksgiving until the Sunday following Thanksgiving, so that all her kids can come. Maybe I will have an appetite by then.
The hard part for us cancer patients when we are on break is that....while it is wonderful to be off the sick juice, it is also scary. Because we lay in our beds thinking about all those cancer cells no longer being held back by the chemo and grinning wickedly and going into high gear.
I had an interesting conversation with Nurse Missy today, though, when I went in to get a bag of nutrients. I was telling her about Shep, our new kitten. I said, "I wanted him to be T's companion after I am gone, but he seems to have chosen me to be his mother instead."
She told me that she had always had at least one cat and had noticed something.
"Cats and dogs are very intuitive around sick people. They will often stay near them, cuddle up to them. Cats and dogs are just NICER than humans. They know when they are needed. Your kitten may just sense that you need some loving. Is he bonding with T, too?"
I said yes, that he LOVED playing with T, but then he only wanted me when he wanted to settle down and cuddle. She nodded.
"I think he'll be just fine. But, Mrs. L? Don't think you may be checking out so soon. I have been an oncology nurse for over 20 years and I will tell you something. I have seen people come in so sick that I doubted that they would be here for a month and they lived for a decade and lived well after treatment. And I have seen people who come in with such a minor case of cancer that I think they will be in and out in a month all cured and they die in two months. Cancer is just....weird. And humans are all wired differently. I was just reading your chart this morning with the other nurses and we were saying that you are an incredible fighter. You have survived initial breast cancer that had traveled to 2 nodes and beat it. Then less than 2 years later, you were hit with leukemia and you beat the odds. Your chances of surviving the first 3 weeks were less than 12% and you beat it in 8 months. And now, less than 6 months later, you are back with metastatic breast cancer to the sternum, liver, and spine and you are fighting like a ninja. I think that cancer has its hands full with you. I am willing to bet that you got that steel spine from your mother and hers. It says that they died from cancer, too. But, remember....20 years ago we didn't have a third of the treatments that we do now. Metastatic breast cancer was a death sentence back then, but your mother lived quite a while with it, yes?"
I nodded, the lump in my throat huge.
"Yeah, I think you come from a family of steel magnolias. Or...maybe steel corn husks."
We both laughed. I thanked her for the talk.
And now, I am home resting. And hoping that every woman in my family has those steel spines.
We might just need them since Trump wants to cut money drastically to fund breast cancer research.
So.....all you Magas. Think about your family trees out there. Think hard.
It happened to me yesterday. I waited for my oncologist, worried. I had been told the previous week that my white blood cells and electrolytes had taken huge hits and if there was no sign of improvement after my next chemo, I would have to hold off for a while.
There was no sign of improvement in my electrolytes, but my white blood cells were up a tiny bit. We decided that I could get my chemo this week, but would skip the next week in hopes that by giving my body a little rest, I could get back on it.
I wasn't as bummed out as I thought that I would be. I had prepared myself sufficiently. Plus, I knew how I was feeling. Sooo tired. I sometimes would stand up and sway back and forth in a swooney sort of way until my balance would return and I could wobbly walk, holding on to furniture carefully. It was not fun. Eventually, I would find my sea legs and all would be fine. What bothered me was the expression on other's faces. They looked a little alarmed. More than one person reached their hands out to me, offering an arm to steady me.
I hated that. It made me feel so.....helpless. One woman handled the whole thing beautifully. I had parked in the lot outside my labs and gotten out of my car, standing carefully, holding on to my car door handle until I felt steady. An older woman in bright psychedelic leggings and a black raincoat was waiting at the end of my car. She looked cheerfully at me.
"Well, I just LOVE your car," she said to me. "I always wanted a cherry red bug. And let's see...you have bumper stickers! I LOVE a good bumper sticker. Oh, my! A liberal in this big red cowboy state. Aren't you a brave little hussy! We are going to be good pals, I can see that already! Are you headed to the lab, too? Let's go!"
She held out her arm, placed my arm in hers and off we went. Slowly and surely. She gabbed as we walked, saying that she had been watching the impeachment hearings. Was I watching, too? Wasn't that Trump just a big asshole? God, and his stupid, vacant eyed followers. Icky.
I had my sea legs back by then and we chatted all the way to the lab room and checked in. Turns out we both had chemo, so we sat beside each other and visited while we got it. We even finished at the same time, so walked to our cars together. This time, again....she waited for me to get my balance as I stood up and then walked slowly arm in arm with me.
People like that are wonderful. No fuss. No muss.
So, yeah.....I am on leave from chemo until....you guessed it. The day before Thanksgiving. Luckily, my sister in law isn't having her Thanksgiving until the Sunday following Thanksgiving, so that all her kids can come. Maybe I will have an appetite by then.
The hard part for us cancer patients when we are on break is that....while it is wonderful to be off the sick juice, it is also scary. Because we lay in our beds thinking about all those cancer cells no longer being held back by the chemo and grinning wickedly and going into high gear.
I had an interesting conversation with Nurse Missy today, though, when I went in to get a bag of nutrients. I was telling her about Shep, our new kitten. I said, "I wanted him to be T's companion after I am gone, but he seems to have chosen me to be his mother instead."
She told me that she had always had at least one cat and had noticed something.
"Cats and dogs are very intuitive around sick people. They will often stay near them, cuddle up to them. Cats and dogs are just NICER than humans. They know when they are needed. Your kitten may just sense that you need some loving. Is he bonding with T, too?"
I said yes, that he LOVED playing with T, but then he only wanted me when he wanted to settle down and cuddle. She nodded.
"I think he'll be just fine. But, Mrs. L? Don't think you may be checking out so soon. I have been an oncology nurse for over 20 years and I will tell you something. I have seen people come in so sick that I doubted that they would be here for a month and they lived for a decade and lived well after treatment. And I have seen people who come in with such a minor case of cancer that I think they will be in and out in a month all cured and they die in two months. Cancer is just....weird. And humans are all wired differently. I was just reading your chart this morning with the other nurses and we were saying that you are an incredible fighter. You have survived initial breast cancer that had traveled to 2 nodes and beat it. Then less than 2 years later, you were hit with leukemia and you beat the odds. Your chances of surviving the first 3 weeks were less than 12% and you beat it in 8 months. And now, less than 6 months later, you are back with metastatic breast cancer to the sternum, liver, and spine and you are fighting like a ninja. I think that cancer has its hands full with you. I am willing to bet that you got that steel spine from your mother and hers. It says that they died from cancer, too. But, remember....20 years ago we didn't have a third of the treatments that we do now. Metastatic breast cancer was a death sentence back then, but your mother lived quite a while with it, yes?"
I nodded, the lump in my throat huge.
"Yeah, I think you come from a family of steel magnolias. Or...maybe steel corn husks."
We both laughed. I thanked her for the talk.
And now, I am home resting. And hoping that every woman in my family has those steel spines.
We might just need them since Trump wants to cut money drastically to fund breast cancer research.
So.....all you Magas. Think about your family trees out there. Think hard.
Have you listened to The Highwomen yet?
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