Monday, September 13, 2010

Chemotherapy Round 1: Dose 2

One thing I can tell you about life in Cancer World, every appointment is early in the morning. Mom and I arrived at the Oncologist Office by 8:30 this morning. I had three appointments this morning: Lab, Doctor, and Treatment. I was excited for the Lab appointment because they would be able to take my blood and not have to stick me, thanks to my new Power PICC line. However, the Lab Tech informs me that she does not use the PICC and that she needs to do a finger stick. Total disappointment!

While my Doctor is a great doctor and helps lots of people, I think he might have missed his calling as a Host of a Children's Television Show. He is so upbeat and positive. It almost feels exaggerated but you know it is genuine. He informs me that the daily shot of Neuprogen worked, my white blood count was up to from 2,100 to 13,400. The Doctor also confirmed what I could already visually tell; The lumps in my throat is softer and smaller. So, the  medicine as harsh as it is is shrinking the dreaded Cancer!

The other needed conversation we had with the doctor was about the PICC line. Immediately the Dr. said yes, we will get that out of your arm this week. I told him I preferred the PICC line to the Groshong and he was surprised. He said if I liked it, I could keep it. So, for now, the PICC line stays in and no more Groshong dangling from the chest.

The treatment room is the place I dislike the most. It is a long rectangular shaped room with 10 recliners dotted around it. It is normally very cold in here but today I am finding it warm enough.  There are five of us getting treatments today, but several others have stopped in for shorter needs.  There are only 3 nurses to care for all the patients and  1 student nurse to help the nurses. There is no privacy in this room. You can hear everything that the nurses say to each of the patients. When one cries, we all notice. Today, one of the patients, who wears the pretties long blond wig, learned that someone has died. I think about how much I would hate to get news like that delivered in a room full of strangers when I can't leave and everyone is watching my grief.

 I am sitting next to an older gentleman and a lovely older-than-I lady. The gentleman keeps watch on all of our medicine bags. When they are empty, he alerts the nurses who are busy and have not yet noticed they have ran their course. The lady tells me she was diagnosed back in March. She has completed one round of drugs, taken a break, and is starting her next round today. She has breast cancer.

There is a lot of apprehension in this room. No one knows exactly what this round will bring. Or what these new drugs will do to them. There is also a lot of concern. You can see it in the faces of the patients as well as the loved ones who sit with them. But also in this room is a lot of hope and faith. We all have hope we are going to beat this cancer and have our lives back. We all have faith that God has a plan for us and we have to trust in him. The emotions are raw here. They are on our faces and easily read.

It is this room I dislike the most.

1 comment:

  1. excellent news about your WBC. I have to say, even when you're in that room you dislike so much, your natural optimism shines through, noticing all you do and empathizing with the other people. that's a wonderful quality, my friend.