It’s only Wednesday night and already I feel like I’ve been riding a roller coaster for days and it all came down to so many words.
It started Monday when I went for my bi-weekly blood tests to assure them that my body was ready for chemo this week. I was chatting with the woman who took my blood and we were talking about the fact that I was getting a picc line soon so that the intravenous would be simpler. She explained to me that the line was only for the chemo intravenous and she would still have to use a needle to take blood. This is always a big deal for me as they have such a difficult time getting a needle in, almost always take two or three times. Oh well, it will still be better for chemo as that one is much more difficult.
I then went immediately to see the urologist as a follow up to my pelvic floor dysfunction, which is much better by the way. She asked many questions and decided that what was happening is fine for now but for me to feel free to call if I need her. These are the kind of words I need to her, so, a good visit.
We then moved on to a meeting with my oncologist. You will note that I said ‘the urologist’ and ‘my oncologist’. That’s because that’s how I feel. I truly seem to feel that I have bond with my oncologist and tha matters so much as she is such an important part of this journey.
We waited only a short time to see her and you never know how long you are going to wait. Last visit was a very long time, one of those times when I was wandering up and down the hall to see if they had forgotten that I was there. They hadn’t and apologized for the long wait. When the doctor came in, she apolgized profusely and explained that she had been in with a patient that she just couldn’t leave. I said that I understood and the truth is, if it were me, I would like to know that she would do the same. And I’m sure that she would.
Anyway, this visit, the nurse came in and went through all our regular things. A check in on my vitals, new symptoms and side effects, mood, sleep, medications. Truly, I am always impressed with the specificity of all the questions and the seriousness with which my answers are taken. When the oncologist came in she carefully asked many of the same questions and took some time to then ask what kinds of questions I have. I explained about the incredible fatigue and I said, it’s not like being tired, it’s like, I can’t lift my arm, I can’t hold my head up, I can’t get off the couch, I just can’t whatever – I just can’t. She said, “that’s a good description, you just can’t. that describes it perfectly”. She then told me that my bone scan was perfect and as you can imagine, I had already worried myself sick over these results. She then went on to talk about how I can begin to imagine what life will be like when I am cancer free, that it will b a new life, a different life. Just to hear her say the words cancer free was so important to me. It somehow gave me permission to think that way. We left in good spirits for sure.
Next afternoon, we were again at the cancer clinic for chemotherapy. It was late in the day so there were not many people in the chemo suite. The nurse was telling us that approximately one hundred people go through the suite daily. Just imagine! Well, it took three nurses and one ‘self-described expert’ to get the needle in and my arm is full of large blue bruises. As she was successfully inserting the needle, she told me that she has a terrible time accepting a needle for blood work or intravenous. She said when she was in labour for her baby, she could take the labour pains, but the needle she was a mess about. I said, “I know, I am pretty good about dealing with the cancer, but the needles gives me the shakes”. Since it had to happen so many times yesterday, I used all my stress reducing tools and they really helped. The woman next to me was chatty and she was telling me that her hair fell out after her first treatment. This is my second one and I seem all right so far.
Well, not so much! This aftenoon I ran my hand over my head and a whole bunch of hairs were in my hand when I brought it down. And so it starts. I must say that this is causing me so much worry, so much sadness and unhappiness and I just can’t seem to get past it. I’ve bought a wig that looks petty good and I’ve made some fun, shiny scarves. All that and it doesn’t matter, I am a complete mess. Tonight I had a serious cry about it and Vic (my husband) wanted so badly to help and just couldn’t. He has been and I know will continue to be my biggest support, but nothing he could say or do was working. Later, after he had gone to bed, I was texting with my daughter and she texted me, “mom, I am so sorry you are going through this and this is going to be one of the hardest parts”. I think maybe because she is female or maybe because it was the right words at the right time, her words made me feel better for sure. However, it is the middle of the night and I am not sleeping at all. I think that part of it is that I am afraid of what I will wake up to. Vic thought that it falls out all at once and that is maybe one of the hardest things is that it is a process. It falls out all over and you have to decide when to get it shaved. Again, I’m crying.
I know it’s a process. I know it will grow back. Somehow, I can’t accept it but I will have to live with it. This is why it’s a journey, surely.
