Chapter 15
The Pee Factor.
I can’t believe it’s been a year since Brisbane last put on the spectacular display of fireworks known as Riverfire. This display marks the start of The Brisbane Festival which is something that I don’t usually get involved in per say. Riverfire however is another matter altogether… About a month prior to the event the marine authority give out flags to 300 boat owners who queue in the early morning with their boat registrations in hand, the flag gives the lucky few exclusive access to the city reach of the Brisbane river right in the middle of all the action for the duration of the event. We have enjoyed this privilege on several occasions however this year was different. Greg was going to be away and there wasn’t much point in securing a flag for our boat. For the last 10 years I have always wanted to celebrate Riverfire at a formal gathering… you know, catered by someone other than me, all the adult beverage I can drink that I haven’t supplied, a spectular view of all the fireworks without having to jostle for position and the best bit, to feel the heat and vibration from the F111 dump and burn (that’s the pee factor!). Last year we attended one event at the Storey Bridge Hotel but it didn’t provide the right vantage point. It just didn’t have that “pee” factor with the F111’s, so the hunt to cross off another bucket list item was on. Greg and his team managed to finish the job early so he was home a week before schedule. I was so excited to have him home again. I’d hadn’t been feeling that flash and it seemed like nothing was going my way (I know, how dare it). Two days before Riverfire I managed to score some tickets to “The Fireball”. This event was indeed bucket list worthy… pricey but worthy! The venue, “Riverlife”, situated right on the boardwalk in the middle of the city reach of the river and so, all the action. It was catered with both canapés and drinks, and when the fireworks were over, a trip to Cloudland. This is a nightclub in the Valley that has had no expense spared as it was purpose built from the ground up a few years back. Greg and I had tried to get in when it was first opened but refused entry because Greg’s leather shoes were not up to scratch. Actually, not “shiny” enough! Big mistake!!! This was not going to beat me, I wanted in but for different reasons now. Just because they said no. I don’t take No that well. We had some serious money to spend the first time we visited, but that was money they never saw.
As the event got closer I found a cute little dress that actually fitted and I thought it would be perfect for the “Fireball”. So with my Man, my dress, encounter, Ash and Chris I was ready to take the ferry the one stop to the function… I was excited but the ferry didn’t come for some unknown reason. We decided to walk as it really wasn’t very far but the walk exhausted me. We quickly got a glass of bubbles and found what were the best seats in the house. A small table with four chairs right at the end of a jetty. It was perfect, no obstruction, no crowds just a beautiful view with beautiful people.
As always the fireworks were amazing! I can honestly say that they are even better than New Years Eve fireworks in both Sydney and Paris, both of which I have experienced first hand, but the best was yet to come… The noise of the F111’s gets me so excited I could just pee and cry all at the same time… It’s almost like a skin orgasm if there is such a thing. So between that awesome sound and the heat and spectacle of the dump and burn… Oh, My, God!!! This is apparently the last year that the F111’s will be flying as they go into a well earned retirement. They are being replaced in service by the F18 Super Hornets (code named Rhino’s), just as noisy, nearly as fast, and more maneuverable, but no dump and burn capabilities... This is why it was important for me to be in the thick of the action… Let me tell you, they didn’t disappoint! After the second pass over I was done, I was so exhausted I couldn’t drink anymore but I was not going to be beaten. I was going to Cloudland even if it killed me. I was on a mission! I had to walk up the hill and the stairs just to get to our chariot (commonly known as “the bus”) to take us there. As I boarded the bus I had a young girl pass a comment to me “had too much to drink have we?” fancy someone saying that to me! “Hahaha, Never!” would have been the correct answer to give but instead “no love, it’s the effects of chemo” just came oozing out like verbal diarrhea, and with that I kept walking (well kinda shuffling actually) to the back of the bus. Poor girl must have felt awful but at this stage I have little tolerance left for anyone. Actually, I have no tolerance left… Can’t help it and I make no apology for it either.
I made it to the Cloudland line up… I hate lining up to get into nightclubs so they have the priveledge of taking my money, but I had no choice. First impressions this time ‘round still haven’t won me over… Arrogant and rude staff at the door is never a good sign. We took the lift the top bar where we were meant to be for our “private function” and we got our free cocktails. No one at the bar seemed to know much of anything that was going on and the cocktails were well below average too I might add. By this stage I needed to go home, just sitting was a major effort. Greg even had to finish my cocktail, and with that we got out of there and went home. The best part was that we didn’t even spend any money there! They got nothin’. I seriously don’t know what all the hype was about that place. I’ve done it and don’t feel the need to go back. It took me two days to recover from that night but it won’t be long before I’ll be going out all night again with little or no effort… One more, just one more!
Come fly with me.
It was a beautiful morning, a morning that would be great to be a bird. So it was fitting that Greg had decided to go for a fly and I was very keen to be his first passenger, or should I say “co-pilot”. We did a few practice landings and a couple of circuits just so I was comfortable with all the procedures. Actually I think it was more for Greg. After take off at Caboolture airport we headed out over Morton Bay and Tangalooma up to Bribie Island< Caloundra, and then over the Glass house mountains. What a spectacular coast line we have. We flew over camping spots of ours that are boat access only, I have to say they look very different from the air. They look a lot like croc country from the air! Might have to rethink before setting up camp next time, or going for a wander in the middle of the night for that matter. You just don’t know what’s lurking in those marshes behind the clearing. The Wrecks at Tangalooma are much larger than I thought, I had only ever seen them from a boat until now. After two hours of pretending we were birds, Greg took us in for our final landing… Wow! That was so much fun! I can’t wait till I get to do it all again.
Purple gloves are off.
Finally my sixth and final infusion is here. This will make it ten cyto-toxic infusions all up. Lucky it’s the last coz I really don’t think I could do anymore… The side effects have gotten much worse with every puncture. What makes it bearable is the fact that this is it… No more… The gloves are off! My day started fairly early with Greg having to bandage my hand and pull a compression sleeve on my arm I have named this sleeve Bandasnatch. Turns out that after a visit to a physio that specializes in lymphadeoma, this is what I have to do, at least until the drugs are out of my system. Next is an appointment with my chiropractor to make me feel human again, then on to have a cardiac echo to check on how much damage the chemo has done to my heart, and then the final dose. Every day now begins and ends with a routine of massage and exercise to train my lymph nodes to redirect the stuff they carry to the other side of my body that works. When the physio was fitting me with the compression bandage, she showed me how it put it on properly. As I was watching intently coz I knew that it’s something that I need to do coz Greg is not always here, she lost her grip on the sleeve and punched me in the nose! I didn’t know what to do, cry, laugh or what. She was so apologetic and then I started to laugh, after all it would have been hilarious if it was happening to anyone other than me! I don’t know how Greg or Ash contained themselves...
I was so anxious to get to the hospital and get it all over with that I forgot to put my “numb numb” cream on my portacath site. I remembered it whilst I was on the couch having my echo. The poor bugger thought that he had hurt me in some way or I was in pain. Now, I was to certain degree, or should I say was going to be. I couldn’t believe it, how could I have forgotten the most important part of my pre-needle routine? By this time I was in panic mode, a wave a terror had engulfed me and by the time I reached the HOCA unit I couldn’t even tell the girl at reception who I was!... luckily she knew me. My eyes where well and truly watering by now, I don’t think it was all side effects, tears where involved this time. I was thinking all I need now is for Angela to be the one to do me today. Don’t get me wrong, Angela is lovely but I have had her three times and two of those times my portacath hurt when the needle went in. Just as that thought danced around in my head, there she was, coming towards me. I tried to make a joke of it all but it didn’t work, by this time I was crying. I think it was a mixture of both terror and relief because after all this is it. I was tired of being brave and pretending. No more. I explained to Angela that I had forgotten my numb numb cream and she said she would be gentle. By this time the adrenilan had kicked in and I had sucked it up! The needle was in and working without too much pain. I was surprised, however, I still will be using the cream for my future Herceptin visits. Angela was the nurse that delivered my first toxic dose some nine months earlier so it was only fitting that she deliver my last and present me with my own set of purple gloves. I had said from the beginning that I wanted a set at the end, when it was all finished. Today that seems like a lifetime ago. Earlier in the week, actually it was the day after Riverfire, Greg made me go to the emergency department because I was incredibly dizzy and in his words “not my usual self”. I didn’t want to go but the alternative was he was going to call an ambulance. I didn’t want to cause a fuss so I let him take me. He promised no needles but oh how wrong he was. Never again will I believe what dribble he tells me when it comes to stuff like that. I should have trusted my instincts, and that was to run, run away as fast as I could but alas, the mind was willing and able but the body was not. Not only did they access my portacath but they couldn’t get it to work, so they had to take blood the old fashion way and they also had to give a shot of stemitol directly into my thigh. Not to mention the fact they wacked me into isolation and bombarded me with a big purple bin and bags marked “cyto-toxic waste only”. Apparently I have vertigo… Whats with that? How did this happen?