I am Nearing the End of the First Stage

 I know it's been awhile and I am sorry.  I have been writing in my personal journal which is usually how I write my drafts before posting... but they were depressing and, worse than that, repetitive.  There were no fun anecdotes or cute stories.  I am truly saving you from hours of polite reading.  

These last weeks have been a little different, my lovely mother has been going to my infusions with me.  She drives up from Woodstock in the morning and meets me at my boys' school after I drop them off and I jump into her car with my bags and pillow and slippers and then she drives me the 45 mins to an hours (depending on rush hour traffic in Northern Virginia) to Fairfax hospital. She spends the time prattling on about whatever she did that week and I usually get a blow by blow recount of my nephew Luke's last basketball game -- GO FALCONS!  She then, reluctantly, allows the Valet attendants to park her truck.  Once inside the hospital I lead the way to blood draw and the failed port access (I've officially given up on my stupid port).  Actually it was their final attempted access (SEVEN fishhooks!!) that prompted Mom to start coming to infusions in the first place.  She figured I needed a guard dog -- I mean advocate.  After the blood draw we ride on two elevators (seriously, one only goes to floor 2 and the other only comes down that far -- who does that?) all the way up to the 9th floor.  It's usually a short wait in the waiting room before a somber tech calls me back.  They weigh me and take my vitals and find me a room.  I get comfy in my recliner and situate my bags and pillow were I can reach them while Mom sniffs us out a table.  Tables are highly coveted and in short supply but she is always successful.  In a few mins the tech will return with a couple of bottles of water for me and a folding table under their arm.  The table is important for two reasons: firstly because Mom always brings healthy snacks and secondly, she always packs cards for Canasta.  My Nana (Mom's mom) taught any of her grandchildren who would sit still long enough to play, and I paid attention. My mother LOVES to play cards! Having someone to play cards with is 80% of what motivates my mother to do almost anything.  We munch of veggies and flaxseed dip and deal out cards while nurses and techs come in and out asking questions and setting up my IV.  My assigned nurse-slash-angel will monitor my labs till all my numbers come back positive and she's ready to give me my pre-meds.  We then get about a half hour of uninterrupted playtime before they start my chemo meds.  (I've been obliterating my mother in Canasta, by the way.  Thanks Nana!)  After my infusion is over we pack up our cards and all the leftover veggies and dip and all my bags and pillow.  We fold up the table and thank all the nurses an techs.  Then we head back down two elevators and out to the Valet spot.  Then Mom prattles all the way home while I snooze with my head on the window.  She really has made my infusion days much more pleasant and less stressful.  Thanks Mom!

However, I am now reaching the end of the first stage of this journey.  This Tuesday, March 4th will be my FINAL round of Chemotherapy. HIP HIP HOORAY!!! 18 whole weeks will finally come to an end. On Tuesday I will ring the "I'm Done" bell and start waiting for my hair to grow back, lol.  Its a small victory and yet a huge one.  Does that make sense? Probably not to anyone who hasn't gone through this.  The truth is that this Chemo thing hasn't been HORRIBLE.  Sure, I've lost most of my hair.  I've got a weird rash on my hands and forearms.  I have a collection of IV bruises that take a very long time to go away. The port access debacle has been extremely irritating. The Diarrhea has been debilitating. The weird taste thing has been a headscratcher.  And the Neuropathy has lead me to try Acupuncture --- I'll have to let you know if that works.  But, I have not had to spend most of my weeks with my head in a toilet.  Nor have I been hospitalized for dehydration. I have heard some awful stories from other women -- so I count myself lucky. It's really the next part of my Cancer journey that I'm worried about.

They've started to prepare me for my Mastectomy.  

Matt and I met with my plastic surgeon on Thursday and Mom and I met with my Cancer surgeon yesterday.  There was a LOT of information.  I'm not prepared to go into all that right now. In short though, my surgery date will be in about 5 weeks -- tentatively April 7th but I'll let you know when they firm that up.  I'll have two to three weeks of recuperation time with drains (ewww). 

Anyway, more of all that to come.  Please keep the prayers coming!