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.
********************************************************************************
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.....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment