Goodbye, infusion room!

The night before Chemo Day is usually a tense evening. To lighten up the evening, we have a tradition of ordering pizza. This time, the night before Chemo Day was a bit different. Ebru and Hakan from Turkey were in town. Ebru offered to take me out at night. I suggested we attend a political rally since both Barack and Hillary were in Austin for the debate. We both liked that idea a lot. I had read somewhere that a rally started at 10 PM, so I told her she should pick me up at 8:30ish for a late dinner and on to the rally. I haven’t kept these hours in years!

As planned, Ebru and Hakan picked me up after I got Emma in bed. Dear David stayed behind to watch the sleeping Emma. I told Ebru and Hakan that my “Chemo Brain” kicked in and that I got my rally days mixed up. The political rally was not on Thursday, but on Friday. No worries. We would still have a late dinner.

We tried eating BBQ at the County Line, but we arrived too late and the place was closing down (I think my European friends forgot that Americans like to eat early). So “Plan B” was the Iron Cactus on 6th Street. Yea, 6th Street! I haven’t been on 6th Street in years! I felt so young and happy and excited.

When we walked into the Iron Cactus a little after 10 PM, it looked like a normal restaurant. We ordered and waited for our meal. Then out of nowhere, at promptly 10:30 the place morphed into a nightclub. Bada bing. Bada bing! The lights were dimmed; the music started blasting and in walk all these beautiful, young women…lots of them… tall, blondish, thin women with fabulous clothes. Our table was right by the bar, so we were surrounded by blond hair, tanned legs, midriffs, and cleavage. Yes, there were young guys around, but the women were the showstoppers.

Ebru wondered what we were doing there. I started feeling quite old and poor Hakan couldn’t finish his meal because he was so distracted. One woman almost accidentally disrobed when she caught her wrap-around dress on my chair. Minutes later a fella almost impaled himself on my chair trying to get passed us.

It was so funny and wild to be in such a different environment. For the past several months, I have been living in the little space where “cancer world” and “kindergarten mom” merge. Yes, an odd space, but a familiar one. So, spending an evening at the Iron Cactus was a bit out of my comfort zone. I forgot about being young and single with strappy heels and dresses. Actually, the Iron Cactus was never my scene as a grad student, but I do remember when the only thing on my plate was reading journal articles and keeping a social calendar.

The actual infusion went well. Ebru and I talked about the political situation in the Middle East until I could no longer hold my eyelids open. I slept through almost all of the infusion process. Ebru cared for me like I was her child. I loved it.

On Saturday, I went back for the usual shots and saline solution. They gave me my “Chemo Graduation T-Shirt.” I took my last round of pictures. I thanked the nurses from the bottom of my heart and told them they were great, but I never wanted to see them again. They understood.

I was in that infusion room 13 times. (One test treatment + 6 actual chemo treatments + 6 follow-up infusions of just saline). Every time I just drive by the clinic on 38th street, I start feeling queasy. The smell of the soap in the bathrooms of the clinic make me sick. I can’t watch anything related to medical situations on TV because I might see an IV stand. I think it will take a while to get passed the mental imagery from this experience.

This weekend was particularly bad…nausea, headache, dry mouth and fatigue. Yes, the chemo effects are cumulative. I do not know how in the world people survive more than 6 chemo treatments.

Here I am with my nice chemo nurse, David and my graduation t-shirt which says, "Let's make cancer extinct."




Ebru and I with our Sweet Leaf Ice Tea Tops. Mine said, "Luck is when preparation meets opportunity." Ebru's said, "Be grateful for what you have."