I’m still living off the high of being cancer free because each day, I run into someone who doesn’t know and I get to share the good news. The most recent trip was to Valley Medical. I’ve come to know lots of the nurses and the receptionist; they all know me by name and always ask how I’m doing. On Wednesday and Thursday I kept seeing them in the medical center and sharing my good news. They all were elated and said things like, “that just made the rest of my day!” One of the receptionist who I have a great fondness for actually came out from behind the counter and gave me a huge hug with tears in her eyes (she’s a young mom too and we used to attend the same camp in Haines as kids.)
I never get sick of sharing the good news. However, that doesn’t mean I’m not getting sick. Each chemo treatment is hitting me harder and harder.
Have you ever gotten sick and then you can’t stand the taste or smell of the last thing you ate? For me it’s Cambell’s chicken noodle soup and roast beef sandwiches on white bread. In 7th grade, that was the last thing I ate before coming down with a terrible stomach bug that had me puking for days. I also can’t go near Tequila anymore thanks to an entire pint glass and my friend Dave Rubin. (I shouldn’t blame Dave, he handed me the cup for a “sip” and I drank the entire pint. C’est la vie.)
The same now goes for chemo. Brynn was saying the other day that every time she gets near Swedish hospital, her stomach turns. I completely agree with her. For me it’s not only driving by Bartlett or Virginia Mason, it’s also the clothes I put on. Every other Friday, I put on the same camisole. I call it my chemo camisole because it’s easy for the nurse to access the port when I wear it. My stomach turns when I look at it. I think I’m going to burn it after my last treatment.
There are a few other things that set me off too. The rubbing alcohol that is used to sterilize my skin before accessing my port is nasty. I actually have gag reflexes at the smell. I hold a candle up to my nose and try to smell the candle instead, but the rubbing alcohol is so potent, it permeates my nostrils and makes me want to run for the bathroom. The other thing that is truly disgusting is saline solution. They use it to flush my port to make sure it’s clear and getting proper blood flow. But get this; I can taste it in my mouth when they flush it! It is the most disgusting taste and smell ever. It’s very odd to think that there are veins in my chest that carry the taste up to my mouth, a taste even Jolly Ranchers can’t mask.
My mom flew in Thursday night to get me through this next treatment. She’s going to bounce back and forth between here and Ketchikan this month. I’ve been really lucky to have her and previously Addi’s mom around. I know Lena has especially enjoyed having grandma time. My mom came loaded with fresh lingcod that my dad just caught and frozen lumpia that she made. I’m going to have to wait until after this weekend to eat these items as I don’t want my favorite foods to become one of the off limits list later.
I was told with each chemo treatment it gets harder, and boy is that true. The day of chemo is proving to be the hardest. I came home at 2 PM and didn’t move from my bed until 3:40 AM. For the past two nights, Lena has been concerned about me and has snuggled in a bit after dinnertime and has slept all night with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lena announced one day she’s going to be a tu-tu wielding doctor, nurse or veterinarian. She toted her vet’s kit to the veterinarian office the other day and impressed Dr. New as she assisted in giving Yasha her exam.
I found out great news the other day. Remember my friend Brock who is running the Team In Training marathon to raise money for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of Canada? He is running the race to honor his friends and family who have had or are currently battling Leukemia/Lymphoma, and I’m one of the ones he’s honoring! Originally, he was going to run the race in San Diego, but serendipitously changed his location to Seattle and it just happened to be the time I’m there getting my radiation! I am going to be able to be there to cheer him on and I couldn’t be more excited. He’s very close to his fundraising goal, so if you want to pitch in to make it happen, visit this link: http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=813208. I can’t wait to stand behind that finish line and see Brock cross! Brock is also the person who is going to run my first marathon with me in August of 2011. It will be a great moment.
I have two more chemo treatments left, thank goodness! I really see why people quit and just say enough is enough. Because I'm really starting to hate chemo. But in the beginning, I said I wouldn't give up and I'd do whatever I had to do to get better. So I will keep doing this. I want to make a shirt that says, “Chemo Grad May 2010” to wear to my last chemo appointment on the 28th. I can’t wait for chemo to be behind me. Can’t friggin’ wait!
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Franny, the other day I heard a poem about your dad on KRBD. Doug Rhodes wrote it about your dad's pickup truck. Apparently the definition of "beater truck" was based on your dad's chosen conveyance! Anyway, hearing your dad's name on the radio got me thinking about you again. I know chemo has been really hard on you and I'm sorry. Didn't you say once that the doctor said this chemo will tip you into quasi-menopause? That comes with hormonal changes which affect taste and smell, so maybe part of your issues with that are the result of the hormonal changes? But also, anything you eat that is followed by nausea is the body's way of saying, "Don't eat that again." I think it's the body's way of warning us away from things that are bad for us; I suppose there were many cavemen who found out the hard way that aged mammoth is only good past a certain point! Have you tried putting VIcks under your nose when you go for chemo? That might block some of the alcohol smell. Just two more to go, and you get the t-shirt. We're praying for you. S.
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