I thought you had cancer- Where you been?

Let's forget the fact that I haven't posted in a couple of months, and no one has any idea what's going on, or where I have been (I was recruited by a top secret agency in the US to fight crime, if you must know). My internal continuity editor won't let me skip the previously unrecorded gripping narrative, you WILL get to hear the whole story. But lets skip to now.

Chemo (interferon treatment is a type of chemo, so don't correct me) has been a great disappointment to me. It's no where near as glamorous as I thought it would be. Muscled adorable young men in short togas are NOT fanning me, and offering me peeled grapes while I lay back on a Victorian style chaise, and contemplate my mortality. There is NO tiara. seriously? Who can do chemo without a tiara? Who would even EXPECT me to?

So I wear my cat ears. I started Chemo on Monday, and just showed up in my cat ears. I have said nothing. The reception desk staff say nothing. The other patients say nothing. I think I caught the reception staff betting yesterday whether I'd show up in them again. The first 2 days I had a super ditzy nurse whom I am certain didn't even notice I was wearing cat ears (more about Nurse D later). Yesterday my nurse asked me why I was wearing cat ears, and the first thing that came out was "Because I can't find my pirate hat. Ahoy!".

So Picture me- wearing my cat ears, I-phone set to I-tunes, I have snacks (more on this later), beverages, a book, my Buffalo (thanks Auntie Kathy), my Dragun (Thanks Elaine), a magic rock, my blue snuggy, fuzzy socks and it's CHEMO TIME!!!

I have a PICC line (Peripherally inserted central catheter, I asked what it meant) in my right arm, that is an attractive lavender color, and there is a long purple tube that goes from the artery in my arm up through my chest and right down over my heart. When the IV is going, I get chilly heartburn. Doesn't hurt, just weird.

The Health Partners Cancer Center at Cedar-Riverside is not fancy. You can go into an individual room, sit in a big ugly vinyl recliner that gives you fruit roll up syndrome if your skin touches it (sticks, and then peels off the chair like a fruit roll-up off the wrapper), and watch the toxin drip into you. I did this the first 2 days. Nurse D didn't tell me there was an option, so I went into the room, arranged my stuff (snacks, beverages, buff, Dragun, rock, socks, etc), and watched the whole process of hooking me up with great interest. Nurse D is sweet, but does not inspire confidence, as she is extremely forgetful (forgets to bring me medication, forgets how to set up the IV machine, forgot which room I was in...)

The hook-up is pretty simple. The big thing about chemo is not getting dehydrated so they hook up the PICC to an IV drip for a bit to give me fluids, then switch to the bag of poison, and then I am done. Less then an hour start to finish. I occasionally yell "KILL KILL KILL!!!" and "DIE CANCER DIE!!!" just to make sure the toxin is doing it's job.

But yesterday I got asked if I wanted to go to "the big room". Hooray! It's like camp for people with cancer! The big room is AWESOME. It is full of ugly vinyl recliners lined up around the edges of the room, and the nurses station is in the center. So Much to see! other people's cancer is much more interesting then mine. There are inspirational posters on the wall, and pamphlets on the tables with titles like "How to eat with cancer". That one had me giggling for a bit. I listen to my specially crafted playlist, drink my vitamin water, and eat my snacks. I am partial to the rice crackers from Costco (the 3 pound bag with nuts in), but also cheese-its.

The other patients seemed baffled by my eating. LUCKY me, I appear to be the only person in the history of Chemo who's appetite actually increased. I am not getting over this without at least 20 pounds added, I just know it.

What is it like? Honestly, it's a pretty Jekyll and Hyde existence. I leave work at 3:00 to go to my appointment. M-f for 4 weeks, so every weekday at 3:20. I get the hook-up, drain the poison, eat the snacks, yell at my cancer, get unhooked, and go home. About an hour after I get home, I start the long slow slide into the BLECH. The blech is best described as flu-like symptoms, fever, aches, chills. I take anti-nausea pills twice a day. No, I am not nauseous, thanks for asking, THATS WHY I TAKE THE PILLS!!!. I also take Tylenol 3 times a day to keep down the fever. works great. I load up all the rest of my pills, crawl my shaky, shivery butt into bed, and fall asleep before 10.

The next morning the sun comes up, the birds are singing, the kitties are purring, and I feel AWESOME. No symptoms. I am at work right NOW and I feel just fine. I will until after I get home from chemo today and the Blech starts over again. BUT, it's OK. it's bearable. I have Netflix. even if I didn't have the Blech, I'd be in my jammies on the couch binge-watching Hoarders. It's all awesome. I have enjoyed watching people act surprised when I tell them I feel fine "Oh she's so brave!", No, I'm not. No I am not fronting an attitude. I am so happy to FINALLY be getting the treatment going that I feel great. more talk soon, time for toxin.