In the beginning of chemotherapy talks I had insisted that I wanted to go alone. That I wanted to be alone and experience this and be able to sit and process my feelings about all of this. At the time of that statement I was still extremely overwhelmed and felt surrounded by too many people. Once the day got closer I realized that having someone there was going to be helpful. However, the Mom in me would never want to inconvenience someone for up to five hours. So I decided that turning this in to more of a “coffee date” or “lunch date” would make me feel less of a burden. For the record, I am now very aware that my friends and family do not see any of this as a burden. They see it as an opportunity to love and support me, just as I have supported them over the years.
No matter how much they inform you, there is no way to know how your first infusion of chemotherapy will effect you personally. You can’t predict reactions, feelings or side effects. You can only anticipate the possibilities, prepare for possible reactions but hope for the best. On Tuesday I had my first infusion. My nurse, Brenda, had the perfect personality. She took the time to explain each step as it was happening but did it with just the right amount of humor and grit. She understood that this was new for me and I understood that is wasn’t new for her. There is a lot of waiting. John was with me for the first half, when the most information was explained and they drew labs, waited, administered anti-nausea meds, then waited some more. Then my dear friend Carrie arrived to relieve John and joined me, right in time for the chemotherapy. In my mind her job was to simply be my friend. In reality we needed her be there if I had a reaction and to advocate for me. We got to talk about all the things that we never get to say to each other, without interruptions. This was one on one time, just us. She showed up with a brave smile and I realized that it wasn’t a burden for her, it gave her an opportunity to help her friend.
The process was anticlimactic, with no noticeable reactions upon administration. Wednesday I woke a little weak and shaky. The best way to describe it is - you feel like you’ve been pumped full of drugs and your body isn’t sure what to do with it. I’ve followed post-infusion instructions and am currently trying to stay ahead of the nausea. I’m quick to become exhausted but a 30-45 minute nap has made a huge difference.
Thursday: meeting with surgeon to get a post treatment plan. Since this isn’t actually breast cancer, I’m anxious to see what this looks like.
Monday: 1 week post chemo follow up with lab draw and meet with Nurse Practitioner.
Prayer Request: That I can continue to stay ahead of the nausea. That I can rest when needed but still balance being there for my boys. That my medical team always takes this good of care of me. That I can continue to accept the help that is offered, but still on my terms.
With love,
Robin
No matter how much they inform you, there is no way to know how your first infusion of chemotherapy will effect you personally. You can’t predict reactions, feelings or side effects. You can only anticipate the possibilities, prepare for possible reactions but hope for the best. On Tuesday I had my first infusion. My nurse, Brenda, had the perfect personality. She took the time to explain each step as it was happening but did it with just the right amount of humor and grit. She understood that this was new for me and I understood that is wasn’t new for her. There is a lot of waiting. John was with me for the first half, when the most information was explained and they drew labs, waited, administered anti-nausea meds, then waited some more. Then my dear friend Carrie arrived to relieve John and joined me, right in time for the chemotherapy. In my mind her job was to simply be my friend. In reality we needed her be there if I had a reaction and to advocate for me. We got to talk about all the things that we never get to say to each other, without interruptions. This was one on one time, just us. She showed up with a brave smile and I realized that it wasn’t a burden for her, it gave her an opportunity to help her friend.
The process was anticlimactic, with no noticeable reactions upon administration. Wednesday I woke a little weak and shaky. The best way to describe it is - you feel like you’ve been pumped full of drugs and your body isn’t sure what to do with it. I’ve followed post-infusion instructions and am currently trying to stay ahead of the nausea. I’m quick to become exhausted but a 30-45 minute nap has made a huge difference.
Thursday: meeting with surgeon to get a post treatment plan. Since this isn’t actually breast cancer, I’m anxious to see what this looks like.
Monday: 1 week post chemo follow up with lab draw and meet with Nurse Practitioner.
Prayer Request: That I can continue to stay ahead of the nausea. That I can rest when needed but still balance being there for my boys. That my medical team always takes this good of care of me. That I can continue to accept the help that is offered, but still on my terms.
With love,
Robin
I'm so glad John and Carrie could be there for you and that you had a great nurse. A good nurse can make such a difference! Thank you for giving us ways to pray for you and your family in the coming weeks and thank you for keeping us all updated - even when you're tired and anxious and feeling all the feelings! I check your blog every morning/afternoon! Love you lots, Robin!
ReplyDeleteLots of prayer going up from me for you, Robin. Lots! And my love is headed to you, too!
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