Today was one patient's last treatment at the cancer center. Her last chemo drip. I didn't actually meet her but her name is Rachel. Seems that she and the guy sitting next to me built a fun camraderie during their treatments. They would "race" to see who could finish their chemo drips first. I think the race tickled the nurses more than it gave those two cancer patients something to look forward to.
I had to admit, as an outsider to their competition, it looked like fun. It was especially fun for me considering, I finished before both of them. (smile)
Rachel had her husband with her and Brian (my neighbor) had his mom with him. And I was alone. It has not bothered me for a long time to sit in chemo alone but today, I felt like I was missing something. But what really made me envious of Rachel was that she had CUPCAKES delivered to her today. Georgetown Cupcakes.
It was lovely. And quite funny because I had just mentioned to my neighbors that I was overdue for having cupcakes with my chemo. But it got me to thinking about my last day of chemo. I mean the last, last, LAST day. When there's no more herceptin, no more shots... nothing. Just follow-up visits every 6 months.
What's that day gonna be like? I think I may follow Rachel's pattern and have some yummy cupcakes delivered. But I'm not sure.
Watching my neighbor deal with his chemo was really difficult. He has lymphoma and it seems like he has had a rough road with it. Difficulty being diagnosed, delayed port implantation (he didn't get a port until they could no longer find his veins), trouble with the actual chemo drugs, no tastebuds...and on and on. His anxiety started from the moment he walked into the cancer center and from what I could tell, it was going to be a bumpy two weeks until he came back for his next (and his last) chemo drip.
It was so hard. He was a really nice guy and very friendly. The staff seemed to love him. Rachel and her husband seemed to have created a strong bond with him and his mom. But he was really in pain. Emotional and physical pain. And even though I was sitting right beside him with drugs going into my body the same way -- and for the same reason -- for some reason, I felt sadder for him than I did for myself. How is that even possible?
I felt badly for him. I was envious of Rachel. And I was perplexed because I know that the transition from going to the cancer center regularly to not going at all is going to be traumatic. The cancer center has become like a sanctuary for me. Its a safe place. Its the one place where I know that something is being done to help me get rid of this threat to my life. And I realized that its the one place where I don't worry about my cancer. I know its crazy but its true. I can turn over the worry to other people for the few hours that I'm at the cancer center. I can relax and be at peace...
I will be thinking of ways to ease myself into and through the transition. I expect it to be difficult but I have been through difficult things and come out okay. But I do think that cupcakes will be a part of that special celebration.
I may get some cupcakes this week... just to make myself smile a little and remember that its the little things that make life so sparkly and wonderful.
mmmm.... cupcakes. :)
