In Treatment

They finally just hooked up the last drug in my "cocktail." I have been here since 11:15, it is now almost 4.

Today is a long day.

I get all three drugs that make up my treatment, plus an anti-nausea drug, a steroid that is wholly responsible for the fact that I have not lost one single pound since this diagnosis. That is right, I am blaming the steroid, not the oreos, not the copious amounts of pretzel thins and never my good friend peanut M&Ms.

As much as I would rather be anywhere else than sitting in this chair, I have to admit there is a community here. I am getting to know the nurses, I am loving my social worker and fellow working mom, I am recognizing more patients, becoming comfortable in an environment I never wanted to be welcomed in.

I still sit in the second room, the smaller room, with less people and a bit more privacy. I am not interested in watching News 12 or Family Feud on the shared TV. But there is another thing, something that I never expected. I look forward to coming here.

At first I thought maybe it was because I didn't have to go to work. I will admit that might be part of it, but then it became more. An uninterrupted 2-4 hours where I can concentrate on myself, actually rest, read. Oh my god, I am reading again. Real books with chapters. Not one princess or Strawberry Shortcake in the mix.

I am spending actual quality time with my best friend. The only way we have to sit and chat without worrying about six kids is in the chemo chair.

I also come because it is the one thing that I can really do to make me better. I look forward to the needle in the port, the metallic taste of the meds in the back of my throat, the cocktail dripping in my veins. It is me being active even though I am just sitting here, draped in the fleece blanket made by a friend, wearing a knit hat sent by another. Waiting for it to work.