Chemo 2.1: A Date With The Red Devil...

As I dropped my 4-year old, Cookie, off at pre-school, she hugged me and said, "Good luck at the doctor, Mommy. I will give you gentle pets later." She's been so darling. As I left the classroom, her amazing, seasoned teacher followed me out and opened her arms to give me a warm embrace and said, "Today's the day, right?" As I quickly scooted down the hall, I said, "Yes. I appreciate all you do, but no hugs, no tears. I'll be fine -- please pray for me and look after Cookie." My sister is also the Asst Director of the Center, and as my eyes met hers, I had to quickly look down and walk away. I knew any big hug from those I love would make it seem all too real that this is happening. So as I dashed out the door I sent her a text telling her how much I loved and appreciated her, but needed to stay strong for what awaited me.

As I arrived home, my sista Satchel was waiting for me. Sadly, she is a pro at being a chemo buddy. She sat by the side of her mother-in-law during her battle with breast cancer, and she was a rock for her family as she helped care for her young sister-in-law who battled leukemia for months. Last year, she came to 5 of my 6 chemo sessions, as well as countless appointments, and would not let me go with Plan A -- go to chemo alone. In the car we laughed, caught up, and headed over to CancerWorld...a place we are all too familiar with.

Last year, my chemo sessions lasted 4-5 hours, and we had prepared for this one to last about 2. Totally do-able. As we found our seat in the open room, we were seated next to a tall, young, 27-year old man with Lymphoma. He sat alone, and was getting a mega cocktail of 4 drugs including the Adriamyacin I was going to receive. I knew it would be just a matter of time before we started talking with him.

We had a wonderful, young, caring 27-year old chemo nurse today. She explained the side-effects of the drug, which I have heard of from many of my survivor friends who have already received the drug -- so no surprises. They call this drug "The Red Devil" -- so I, of course, felt the need to offer a visual for my dedicated readers. This is so toxic that the nurse has to hand push this very carefully in to my port.

She accessed my new port and I had my pre-meds via IV. She was preparing for the chemo and I asked her to wait, looked at Satchel, and said, "We can't start without the shuffle-tap-step!" So, with the true friend she is, she got up in the middle of the chemo infusion room and did her shuffle-tap-step. Everyone loved it and kind of looked at us like WTF. I said, "Oh, this is our ritual -- it's sort of a morning prayer. We always begins with the shuffle tap step." Oh, if only I could post the video! My kids got such a kick out if it tonight as they watched it over and over!

It took her about 35 minutes to hand push the Red Devil in to my IV. As she pushed, we started talking with the young 27-year old Lymphoma patient. We shared stories, kept him company, and offered him some head shaving lessons learned. He has beautiful, thick red hair. I broke out some of the photos on my iPhone and gave him a visual of what NOT to do when your hair starts to shed! I recommended he go to a barber this week and use a #2 or 3 clipper so he can get used to the crew cut. Then, when he feels it tingling to get it shave and do NOT pull it out. I think the picture spoke a thousand words! It was interesting to hear his perspective, coping mechanisms, and differences in what we have to face. We are both way too young to have cancer. But luckily, we both have good prognosises. I'm sure we'll see him again, and I will add him to my prayer list for sure.

By noon we were outta there, and headed to our usual spot for a quick lunch before I headed home to bed. I felt OK, but decided doing a little work in bed was fine. Before I knew it, I crashed and had a great power nap, only to be awakened by the delightful giggles of my kids and my mom. After a little home cooked food courtesy of my mom and a dear friend, we all headed up for some rest.

I really can't believe that I started chemotherapy again today. But the good news is that I'm 25% done! And it's not 11 weeks --- it's 9 weeks. I can do this. Want to know why? Because it is days like today where I feel more love than words can describe. Even this time around, when I have not been talking much about cancer, and have been playing it down, I received so many texts, emails, phone calls, etc. It is so uplifting, and one of the best medicines in healing is to know how loved you are, and to feel confident that whatever comes your way in life, it is the loved ones that are the ones who should be celebrated. How blessed am I?!

Our families have been amazing, and I am not sure how people who are alone do it. I think tonight I'll pray for the single mom with no help and no insurance who is faced with this beast. I'll give thanks for my health, my healing team, my friends and loved ones who I cherish, my extended family, and my immediate family. As I tucked in my kids tonight, swept the hair from their face, and gave them a kiss on their foreheads, I asked God to bless them. I pray for good health for their future...especially for Cookie. I pray she never has to face this beast. But I thank them for giving me every ounce of courage I need to kick a$$.

Finally off to rest. So far, so good. I have a feeling tomorrow will be rough. I am going to acupuncture tomorrow, so hopefully that zen time will be great.

Sweet dreams!