Braver than You Believe

Yesterday was my first chemo treatment and it is a relief to have the first one over with and know what to expect from here on out. Fridays are a slow day around the Cancer Center, not many patients and a limited number of staff. After waiting what I thought was too long for being one of two people in the waiting the room, I was called back for my first port draw. As walked through the door to the treatment room for the first time, the sight of all the other patients receiving chemo struck me. About 10 chairs are separated by half walls, and they each face out into the room. Walking in to the sight of people connected to their chemicals, all much older than me and very sick looking, I did not feel like I belonged there. The nurse took my lab sheet and told me to pick an open chair. As I sat down, the fear of the unknown began to creep up on me. The nurse came over and immediately recognized that it was my first time because I still had hair and my eyes were probably as big as saucers. Very kindly she explained how everything was going to go. She then went to obtain the necessary materials and left me to my own thoughts. As I looked around, the whole experience began to overwhelm me. As the tears started to well up, I told myself I can do this and remembered the quote that sits on my bathroom counter.

"Promise me you'll always remember...You're stronger than you seem, braver than you believe, and smarter than you think." Christopher Robin to Pooh

The nurse returned with the first of many syringes to access my port. She instructed me to take a deep breath and on the count of three she was going to stick a needle into my port. Unsure of what pain level to expect, I asked if it would feel like a normal IV stick or worse. She said it may be a little bit more painful, but since I had applied the numbing cream it might not be bad at all. As I drew in a deep breath and she got to three, all I felt was a slight push on my chest, no needle prick at all and I said, "Wow, that was easy!" She must have read my mind earlier because she replied, "The fear of the unknown is the worst." After she was done with my blood draw she showed me where I would be taking the sample each time and instructed me to have a seat in the waiting room for my appointment with the nurse practitioner. Again, after what seemed like much too long of a wait (I guess I haven't exactly mastered the whole patience thing yet), I was called back. The nurse explained the drugs I was going to be receiving and the potential side effects. After a very thorough explanation in a heavy accent from who knows where, she gave me the information packets, some prescriptions and led me back to the treatment room.

As I took a seat and the nurse came back over, I withdrew the IV tubing from my bra (what a magic trick that was) and she got me hooked back up. The first thing I received was a small bag of a steroid which helped with nausea. In about 15 minutes when it ran dry, the nurse came over and did a push IV of another anti-nausea medicine. With a push IV, instead of letting it hang and drip through the tubing, she accesses the tubing with a syringe and injects it slowly. With the first two preventive drugs done, it was time for the actual chemo. The first three chemo drugs were pushed while the fourth was mixed with the saline. The first drug was the most interesting of all and was a very deep red. That is the one that made me pee orange (imagine the joy when I peed my favorite color!).

When the bag of the final drug was dry an hour later, the nurse returned to prepare for my exit. She brought over more syringes (I think I will take out stock in syringes considering she used 10 just for me) to clean my port and inject a medicine to prevent clotting, which brought my medicines received in one sitting count up to seven. After that was complete, she said, "There you go, you just completed your first chemo treatment." And I thought to myself, "That wasn't bad at all. I can do this, I really can do this."

I returned home to find all kinds of love and support reminding me that I am not alone in this adventure. I had beautiful flowers waiting for me, along with a book, and a card. Also, as I left work that day my coworkers presented me with a very generous gift card to use towards an iPad to help pass the time during chemo. It is a blessing to have so many people fighting for me.