Last Treatment

A week ago today, I had my last treatment.  A year ago today, I had my first treatment.

It has been a weird week for me.  Although I was excited to finish my last treatment, there are so many more emotions whirling around in my head.  More on that later...

My routine, on the day of treatments, has always gone like this:

Park my car.  Go up the elevator.  Sign in.  Sit down and wait.  (Usually for a long time.)  Get called back.  Stand on a scale.  Go into a small room.  Get my blood pressure and temperature taken.  Asked my name and birthdate.  The lab tech puts on my name band that has my DOB and sulfur because I am allergic to it.  She accesses my port and draws blood.  She closes off the flow.  Puts a Tegaderm Film over my port and clips the tubing onto my shirt.  And I walk back to the infusion (or chemo) room.

I sit in a chair and do some more waiting.  They have to check my numbers and make sure everything is good before starting chemo.  I have had to wait for 30 minutes before.  So frustrating.  When the blood work comes back, then they mix up my cocktail (chemo) for the day.  Once that is ready, they connect it to the tube that is now coming out of my port and I get comfortable.

Since I have only been doing Herceptin, this only takes about 35 minutes.  But sometimes I am there for 3 hours because of all the waiting.

On Monday, Jack went to school and Charlie and I had our first music class at 10:30.  My appointment was at 8 so I was nervous about making it.  It must have been my lucky day because I was receiving the Herceptin by 9:00.  I was going to make it and have some time to spare.

Around 9:25, MaryLea came by to chat.  She is one of my favorite nurses and her parents used to live on my street.  While talking, she looked down and said, "Something is dripping on the floor."  Turns out that the person who hooked me up, didn't even hook me up and the medicine had been dripping onto the floor instead of into me!

This caused all kinds of commotion.  Besides the fact that my medicines are VERY expensive and it was now wasted on the floor, chemo is a harsh drug.  Herceptin isn't as bad, but they had to wheel me and my chair out of the way, put on protective gear, spray with bleach and other stuff, and would probably have tons of paperwork to fill out afterwards.

My Wonderful Nurse, Valerie, and Her Hazmat Outfit

Wheeled Away From the Others

And all I was thinking was that I wasn't going to make it to music.  They quickly mixed up another batch and I got to sit some more.  I was done at 10:10, hugged everyone goodbye, ran to my car, drove to my house, grabbed Charlie, and we were only about 4 minutes late to music.

I went through the rest of my day trying to figure out how I was feeling.  Of course, excited and happy that I am done.  But also scared.  While on chemo, I had a sense of safety.  What happens now that there isn't poison in my body to scare any would-be cancer cells away?  Scared to be happy.  Scared that if I let my guard down, the other shoe will drop.  There are so many books about fighting cancer and what patients are feeling.  People talk about being positive and how you will physically be challenged.  No one really talks about the sh*# that comes after treatment.  Because now I am supposed to live life and be happy that I am a survivor.  Right?  I won!  Be happy!  And, I am, but there is just so much more there.

One week ago, I had my last treatment.  One year ago, I had my first treatment and I think I am just as scared now as I was then.