#TMIFiles: The End of Chemo, Part 2 in These Foolish Things

I need to come back and finish my End of Chemo story. I hate that it got sidetracked by my sucky experience at work, but it was all going to come to a head soon anyway. I have a lot to consider and think about - what I want to do with my life - but last week just seemed to fast track the whole thing and I just didn’t want to write.

But getting back to chemo for a bit, it’s been a week and a half and I’m still not feeling great. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel terrible, but this chemo does a number to every cell in my body - targeting my guts, of course, but also my hands and feet (neuropathy), my skin (breakouts)…everything…and I’m just feeling bluh-ish.

The work stuff doesn’t make it any better. And here we are. Another Monday.

Anyway. We last left off where I was getting ready for the start of my 12th and final chemo infusion. I did all my morning routine stuff and Maria picked me up at 7:30 as she always does.

Of course, she was raring to celebrate already!! I’d taken my Valium and was settling down while she was bouncing up and down and playing me the end-of-chemo playlist and singing at the top of her lungs! It was hilarious and sweet and so much fun. I let her do it and tried to chie in as best I could, but even though it was the last chemo it was STILL chemo, which suuuucccksss and I was on edge about it. Still opportunity for shit to go wrong, etc.

Lucky for me, Maria was having nothing to do with the possibility that anything could go wrong. Ha!

She also pinned a blue ribbon on my top (colon cancer ribbon color is a beautiful deep blue), and it made me choke up and cry a little…I think it was because she was being so wonderful through all of this and has made going to chemo a little bit like an event. She always showed up and showed OUT!

We sang and jabbered and talked about her picking up my parents to come back for the bell-ringing that we were going to do outside in the little park next to the infusion room (patients can look out the glass windows). I’d told her that I wasn’t sure if I’d be up for lunch afterwards, but let’s see how I feel. I also told her that if everybody wanted to, we could have mom and dad bring the cake with them to the bell-ringing ceremony and we could have some wherever we were going to have lunch.

I honestly was thinking low-key and hopefully outdoors since I’m still so worried about covid.

She dropped me off at the door with a hug and a smile and I was inside the cancer center with my rolling bag full of ice and all of my stuff (blanket, slippers, snacks, cords, ipad, earbuds, blah, blah, bluh) and additionally all the little treats for the nurses. So much freaking STUFF!

First stop, temperature check and covid questions.

Next, check in. The woman who checks me in is always so sweet and I told her it was my last day of chemo (!!) and she was like, “Yayyyy! Now you can go to the lab and get your bloodwork.” Ha.

Blood draw never gets easier! How is it possible? Even with my veins starting to scar up. You’d think I’d get tougher, but no. I told all of the technicians it was my last chemo. Yayyyy! Now you can go back to the waiting room and wait.

Next was the vitals. Weight (I’ve lost and then gained about 10 lbs throughout the process, so I’m back to where I started…but that’s good, according to all of the med staff), blood pressure (always a little high before infusion - normal), oxygen, etc.

Next was the visit with the NP, who congratulated me first and then told me that I’d start feeling better and better little by little. She looked at my bloodwork, and though I was borderline for all of the blood stuff (WBC, etc), that I wouldn’t need the Neulasta shot (triple yayyy!) and that I was good to go for my last infusion. I gave her a box of pretty, pretty treats. She said her son would love them. I wonder if she doesn’t eat treats? Oh well.

Then to the infusion room. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel walking into that room for the last time (which really isn’t going to be the last time, but I’ll explain later). I remember the first time was one of the worst (if not THE WORST) feelings of my entire life. I could feel my heart sink lower and lower and lower with every step.

By the 12th time, I was old hat. But it still feels gross to go into that room.

I checked in and handed the first nurse the big, big box of beautiful goodies. She was elated! And she walked around showing all of the other nurses. And that made me soooo happy. I’m so glad I brought them - they really were beautiful - white macarons brushed with gold accents and white chocolate covered strawberries and pretzels. And my friend even threw fresh flower blooms to accent everything. So gorgeous. And so appreciated by the staff!

I was even given a section where both of the window seats were free! The window seats overlooking the little park is my favorite part of sitting in that room (well, after making friends with all of the other patients, that is).

Okay, this story is long! I need to follow this with Part 3.

More to come. Hopefully no surprises in between!

GS