Chapter 1
Diary of a Chemo Junky.
Lost Words.
What a roller coaster ride of decisions, emotions and actions so far... And this is just the beginning! The hardest thing for me so far has been telling people. The thoughts in my head just don't seem to want to verbalise. My words were lost. Maybe if it's not said, it's no so. So unfortunately Greg has to do my dirty work. I can then take over and talk about it with relative ease.
After all the research that Greg has done we have decided on a concoction of natural therapies along with the tradition chemo drugs, Adriamycin and Cyclophosphamide. It’s hard enough to say them let alone spell them! I have a truely wonderful team of doctors, Professor Ian who is my breast surgeon, is a short grey haired man with a very serious disposition. So far I have only managed to get the very corners of his mouth to curl but It’s my mission to get him to laugh. My Oncologist, Dr. Geoff, is very tall and wirey, but then again most people seem tall to me. He is a wonderful man, just like your dad, he worries about you and you can see a genuine concern in his face. He makes me feel like I’m his only patient. Of course, there’s my trusty GP Dr. Anita... I have always been a constant source of worry for her and I’m guessing that the results making their way back to her wouldn’t be helping the cause.
The Chair.
Yesterday, 8th Jan we took our first steps through the door of HOCA, That’s Haematology & Oncology Clinic of Australasia. At first I thought, this is ok, nothing too hard about this. Then I stepped up to the counter. They were waiting for me... A bit like vultures circling, waiting patiently to pounce. I filled in more forms and was asked to take a seat but I no sooner turned around when the admissions nurse called me. We went into her little office which seemed like nothing more than a hole in the wall. More forms!... They just kept coming... Sign this, waive this, do you understand this... The information and questions were a little overwhelming and in the end I was just passing them off to Greg and signing on the dotted line... For all I know they not only own me but my first born (sorry Ash, I’m sure they will use you wisely!), and everything else that may or may not have my name to it... The crux of all of the paperwork was basically “This shit is poison, it will harm you, your challenge, should you choose to accept it is to do this and survive!” I guess it wasn’t till we walked into what I will refer to as the “needle room”, rows of comfy chairs with curtains separating each chair, that I began to feel that this was actually happening. I could see many other ladies and some men sitting with drips filled with what I now know as toxic chemicals. Funny, my Mum always taught me to stay away from anything thats says TOXIC... I was still ok with it all; well I think I was... My nurse Angela was lovely, I think it had been a while since she had had some fun with one of her patients. She took my blood pressure, it wasn’t bad at 137/91 so not too shabby for someone thats about to a become a “chemo junky” filled with toxic stuff. (Greg won the bet as to what it would be with a guess of 140/90...) After a litre of saline, a pill, 2 different anti-nausea drugs and loads of info including the side effects AGAIN, one in particular stuck in my mind, the fact that Adriamycin can turn your pee red!... This I like very much, how cool would it be to glow in the dark too? We then had our “sex talk”, I think we made poor Angela blush! Did you all know that we have to use condoms???... LOL... I can just see all our kids closing their eyes and holding their ears... la la laaaaaaaaaa. I got a little excited when I heard that coz only a few days ago I saw a condom on the shelf in IGA that had a vibrator attached... We so gotta give that whirl!!! La la laaaaaaaaaa. Anyway, Angela started injecting those toxic chemicals that my mother warned me about. Then comes the bag of other toxic garbage that is then slowly dripped into my veins over the next hour. About Mid way through I needed to pee, to my delight it looked like creaming soda! It didn’t glow in the dark though damn it!... Lol. My chair was situated directly across from the toilets so Greg, and probably everyone else could hear this roar of laughter coming from inside. I was like a kid, couldn’t wait to tell him and the look on his face told me he kinda figured something was amusing me. The colour faded to a nice peach tea colour over the day but hey, it was sooo cool for a while! Ok, enough of the graphic details... After it was all over we were allowed to go home armed with what I’m going to refer to as my “11 secret herbs and spices”, my bag of drugs to minimise the undesirable effects of the chemo drugs. I didn’t feel any different, I felt great, really great.
The Morning After.
The next morning was no different. All was good, I had a really good sleep. Probably coz I new I had help getting my pacman going in the right direction, not that he needs too much help, he sniffs out his food 24/7. Only difference now is that he’s got a dirty big machine gun and plenty of ammo! Later that day we went to Carindale just to check out the wigs at Starkles there, although I like the 2 I had picked out earlier, they aren’t exactly what I wanted. The lady there wasn’t too helpful . I new exactly what I wanted and she seemed to have other ideas. Her ideas sucked big time! She just wasn’t listening to me. I really don’t know what she was thinking. Finally she found me one that seemed perfect. Its called Farrah... Now I know what your all thinking, and it’s not at all like Farrah Fawcett’s hair. It’s longish, layered, and has a curl and a fringe in a colour very close to my eyebrows... Not that that will be an issue... Lol. I got her to hold it. In true form for me it was the most expensive wig in the shop. No one could ever say I was cheap, $660... mmm brings me back to when I had a mug with the phrase, “So many men, so few who can afford me!” This was something Greg was warned about very early on in our courtship. I’m still struggling a little with the fact that I will loose my hair, but hey, I’ll never have to style a wig and it won’t flop in the humidity!... Besides, I’ll get used to it eventually.
Let it Flow.
Day 2 after the 1st chemo hit and I woke up a little teary... no reason, I still felt good. Greg got up and prepared the 11 herbs and spices. There were actually 14 not 11 and with that, my eyes leaked more... it was then that I realised that I was in fact a chemo junky... Time to ”suck it up sunshine”, And with that, I did, and continue to.
Nearly a week has passed and I’m nearly down to the magnificent 7, a bunch of vitamins and herbal suppliments and my trusty Karvazide. Greg is looking after me or should I say spoiling me rotten. He gets up every morning and makes me a fresh fruit salad, makes my lunch and packs me a bag full of little snackies for work. I had decided to try and keep life as normal as possible, that meant still working full time. He brings my drugs, and food, and water in a constant procession. I am now used to drinking this ghastly ginger stuff and do so without fuss. Well I think it’s no fuss but you would have to ask Greg... My taste has been seriously impaired and I seem to be quite vague at times. Everyone seems to be amused about that, especially the girls at work. They are a constant source of entertainment for me so I guess it’s only fair. With all this extra water I do seem to spend more of my working day running off to the toilet to pee. I have constant heart burn and a serious problem in keeping my shoes on... The amount of water that I’m consuming seems to have caused my feet and fingers to shrink. Buggar! that means no rings! Friday night I get to pick up my wigs. I decided against “Farrah” and went for “Encounter” and “Miracles”, lol. Funny names hey, along with a select few scarfs. Still not sure about those, but I am warming to the idea. Much thanks to the Girls that helped me choose. Now I’m ready for the lion to be demained, well as ready as I’ll ever be... Lol.