The Last Chemo -- Photos

Adjusting to Being Done

I had my last chemo yesterday. I'm flooded with feelings -- elation, disbelief, and some anxiety. Things got off to a slow start. Before I headed to the infusion room, a well-meaning nurse inserted a needle that was an inch too long into my portocatheter. She drew the blood she needed, then sent me on my way. Once in the infusion room, the nurse there was not pleased, noting with irritation that this long a needle could be dangerous. It could break off, leaving part of the needle embedded in my chest. He said he need to insert a new needle. So I got poked again. ...I'm more used to it now, but I still look away and place my mind on other things when I know I'm going to be punctured.

I have no complaints about the rest of the day. The Benedryl made me loopy as usual. I had nice visits from LW and MI. Dan brought me my requested lunch -- a cheeseburger without the bun and French fries. That should help put some weight back on me!

The grand finale was what I was waiting for -- when the treatment was over, several of the nursing staff tossed confetti on my head and handed me a "diploma" of chemo survival. I got hugs from staff, applause from other patients, and words of congratulations. As I headed out of the infusion room I got to ring the victory bell on the wall and heard the sound of cheers behind me. Dan took some pictures. A lovely but bittersweet feeling. I feel a connection to and sadness for the patients left behind, with more treatments to come. I want good things for them.

...Now this part, the chemo part, of this cancer dream is over.

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I've been doing pretty well today. I went to my supervision group and it felt good to reconnect with my "family" and see these dear, familiar faces.

When I saw Dr. S yesterday I voiced my concern about research on the relationship between non-Hodgkins lymphoma, small intestine cancer, and gluten intolerance/Celiac disease. He listened to my concerns and said that the symptoms I'm worried about might be a result of the chemo itself, not necessarily Celiac disease. I said I had quite a bit of anxiety about my upcoming CAT scan. In his own quirky way, I know he was being caring towards me. He said with emphasis and a bit of humor, "Jane, I told you I'm good at this!!" He followed up with a statement about expecting to see no cancer in the CAT scan I'll have in September. I am somewhat reassured. I will still do my best to avoid gluten and wheat for the time being.

In my resting time today I've had moments of excitement and elation when thinking of returning to activities that bring me joy. I want to return to watercolor painting again soon. I want to have lunch with friends. And I'm fantasizing about taking a short, relaxing, celebratory trip. Aaahhh.....

As I Approach #6

As I approach chemo #6, I'm feeling glad, sad, and scared. I'm glad that the chemo ordeal is coming to an end, but sad that Dan will soon be leaving. I'll be on my own for 70 days. And I'm downright terrified of going for the CAT scan or PET scan or whichever it is that I'll have about 6 weeks after my last chemo. (That test should tell if there's any cancer remaining or re-emerging anywhere.) I've read that people undergoing chemotherapy often feel depressed or scared after their last chemo. The worry is: "Now that the chemo is over, what's going to keep the cancer from coming back??!!" I share that fear.

And now I'm pretty sure I'm gluten intolerant. I've been learning this through experience -- certain GI discomfort I'm having. I've been reading up on the connection between gluten intolerance, small intestine cancer, and non-Hodgkins lymphoma. ...More on this later. For now, I'm doing my best to avoid wheat and gluten.

I meditated this morning. Wanted to bring as much sanity to the situation as I can. Coming back to my breath. Staying in the present. Looking up at the beautiful, sprawling live oaks in our back yard. I really need to keep meditating now more than ever. Get back into a regular habit. Live in the present. Enjoy each breath. Right now my breathing comes easily. I feel healthy --yes, in this moment, healthy! I'll go to work today, see clients, have lunch with MS, and run my group.

Tomorrow when I go to the oncology center I plan to take flowers to give to the other patients in the infusion room. Often when someone is having their last chemo they bring something for the other patients. ...Wow. My last chemo....For 4 months chemotherapy has dictated my life. (Feels so-o-o-o much longer than 4 months!) And now that chapter is about to come to an end.

Welcome Back, Sweet Owls

The fledgling screech owls came back for an early bath this morning -- a most welcome sight since we hadn't seen them for over a week. At 6:20 first one, then the other got in the birdbath and then bathed together. One of the parents was perched nearby. I wish I could share these images with my blog readers. Words just don't do justice to how charming it is to see these little creatures going about their ritual, dipping their heads, fluttering and fluffing their wings in the water, then staring out at the world with their big wide eyes. They're maturing now, almost the size of the parents, but fluffier and their coloring is not as defined. ...And to think that in February they didn't even exist! In March they were only eggs. ...The delightful miracles of nature and life.

As for me, I'm gradually recovering from this infection. I added a new medication for pain. I'm feeling better bit by bit. And biding my time until next Thursday's 6th and final chemo.

Drat! Sick Again

I got another infection this weekend, had to call the after-hours doctor on call last night. But fortunately this time, no trip to the emergency room. Just a prescription for an antibiotic. I'm so tired of having my body compromised! When I'm doing my best, washing my hands all the time, using antibacterial hand gels, doing my best to stay away from sick people, I still get blindsided.

There is good news though. I'm very heartened to have stuck up an email correspondence with David Treadway, Ph.D., author of Home Before Dark. His successful journey to the survivor side of non-Hodgkins lymphoma reminds me that people get through this nightmare and continue to live productive, rewarding, and happy lives.

"Make Positive Effort for the Good"

This morning I meditated. My night had been restless and my sleep interrupted. I got up early feeling tired and very grumpy. But meditating usually yields something good.

While meditating I remembered the phrase I first learned from Natalie Goldberg's Wild Mind: "Make positive effort for the good" -- advice from her Zen teacher, Katagiri Roshi. In my mind's eye I can see Natalie feeling completely bludgeoned by a cold, dragging herself out of bed to do something good in the world -- to write, to say "hello "to a neighbor, to lift her head up and see the sky. I figure if she can do it, I can too.

I've had this little gem with me for 20 years. It still works.

Back to Work Today

I feel rested and I'm heading back to work today. I'll rest intermittently as needed. This time after my 5th chemo I took a full week off, opting to cancel my group for one week. Having the extra day to take it easy really seemed to help.

I continue to feel grateful and blessed to have the many people who are wishing me well, sending me prayers of healing. ...And I only have one chemo treatment left!

I do find re-entering the work world and world of normal responsibilities a bit daunting after I've had a week to tend only to me. It's a necessary but somewhat odd feeling to be so totally focused on my own survival and well-being.

I both welcome and dread each re-entry into the "real world." (Right now dread is primary!) In the real world my colleagues are doing adventurous things, my 85-year-old father-in-law has cancer, one niece is happily pregnant and another is busy being a camp counselor in the Northeast, friends and family are living their lives expansively -- being creative, connecting with others. I both long for and cringe at the thought of nudging myself back into the challenges of taking on risks, expanding my life again. For so long, my life has shrunk in order for me to put my health first. My own creativity and expansion have been on a back burner. Now I'm beginning to contemplate bringing those parts of me back into action. Yes, I feel longing and dread. Anticipation and fear...

And what I long for most is to go on a vacation, to play and relax -- to see the ocean and bask in the sun with warm sea breezes wafting over me!