May 22, 2006
Today will be my fifth day of the of the fifth round of Chemotherapy. Even though I have been pronouced in “remission”, this goes on to be “really in remission” and then a sixth round needs to be gone through so I can be “really, really in remission.” This is not a medical take, just mine. Anyway, on Saturday I drove to the hospital to receive the shots in the abdomen, and for the first time, a nurse who had not handled the Vidaza before administered the injections. She didn’t warm the materials within the syringe, and the procedure was very, very painful. I was in tears by the time I got to the car, and I decided to drive over to the church where Charles would be since he was playing for a funeral there. I got there to see the funeral procession driving away, so I knew that my comfort giver would be available. I went into the church, saw him coming down the side aisle, and commenced to walk toward him when the newly appointed head paster suddenly appeared and said, “I am so glad to have the opportunity to meet you. . . I have met everyone else on the staff, and I have been looking forward to meeting Charles’ wife, too.” Sadly, I was a complete mess. I was crying, and I sort of hiccuped and sniffed my way through, “Nice to meet you, too” and then flung myself into Charles’ arms. He just said, “Chemotherapy” and began patting my shoulder. The new pastor said some kind words and moved on. Sigh. When we got to the car, I told Charles that he likely was thinking that not only was Charles doing a fine job, but he had a totally neurotic wife to deal with as well. C’est la vie.
Yesterday I returned to the Specialty Clinic at the hospital in Lincoln to receive the next injections by the same nurse. I told her about warming the syringe and its contents by briskly rubbing them between the hands for at least a minute, and she dutifully did just as instructed. The shots were quite tolerable this time, and she thanked me profusely for telling her – no one else had given her such information and the huge welts around yesterday’s injections were proof that it had not gone well the day before. Today I return to the oncologist’s office for a blood draw and the “fifth of seven”. I can do this.