Chemo Day

It’s chemo day.  I have been super-productive today.  I’ve connected with a ton of people, I’ve sent out emails, I’ve learned about and updated my website.  Time passes by as if I were in a time/space continuum that would make Q proud (those of you that are Star Trek fans will know what I’m talking about.  The rest? Google it.).  It is almost 2 p.m. but if I had no computer and no clock, I would think it was 9 a.m. or 5 p.m.  Time crawls but also speeds up in here. I’ve pumped, checked in with the nanny, gotten lunch for mami and me.  Now I wait.  The cisplatin is currently up to bat on the IV along with hydration.  Next up: gemzar.  I know way too much about chemo.  And about the protocol.  I know way too much about cholangiocarcinoma, the metastasis to adenocarcinoma and its stages which I had to find out on my own because the doctor never wants to discuss staging. It’s always “we’ll see how the treatment works”.  I am a project manager and this is one of my top two projects (the frog princess being the other).  I need details!  I need an action plan!  I need information!

That’s not always a good thing. I know more than I care to.  But it’s the curse I live with.  My nickname is “House” and I keep a white lab coat on a hanger for when my friends call.  If I had a co-pay for every time I diagnosed one of my friends, I’d have a nice college fund set aside for my child.

But I also feel that I am educated about this enemy we are fighting.  My sister named the tumor. His name is Randall and he is a fat, lazy, sloppy guy.  I have other names for him but want to keep my blog PG.  We are killing him slowly.  He is now ½ the size he was when we started this battle.  We will kill him off completely.  And I will get my mami back!

It’s chemo day. I sit in an uncomfortable chair for the 6-8 hours this takes.  Today makes the 12th treatment.  We have 4 more to go.  I will be here for those as well.  And for anything else that is needed.  I will hold her hand when they are putting in or taking out the needle from her port.  I will get a serious attitude when her standard of care isn’t followed (because I’ve had to educate more than one person on what to do).  I will fall in love with the nurses that treat her because they are soldiers on our side too.  I will share my lunch with her and wait until she is tired of being here to pull out the tamarind balls that she loves.  I will continue to tell her stories of the frog princess even though she sees her every day.  I will tell her about my plans and dreams with this blog and she will ask questions though she has no idea what a blog is and when she wants to find a special button she’s been looking for tells me “so and so said I could find that button on the internet” as if it was a filing cabinet and not the entire world.  I will watch her sleep as I work on my laptop and when I get teary-eyed as my heart fills with love for her, I will pretend it’s my contact lens.  I will love her more than life itself.  And when I grow up, I will pray God makes me just like her.

It’s chemo day and I love my mami just a little more than yesterday.