Cancer could be a god damn full-time job.

Yesterday when I woke up I felt like my body was concrete or metal that had been welded to the bed. It took incredible will power to force myself to get up out of that bed. I truly did not want the day to start. We both were muzzy. I kept staring off into space. Ernie would ask me what I was thinking and I had no idea. Neither of us slept well the night before.

We saw Vasireddy first. He got us cheered up some. He said that while, yes, Ernie will lose his hair, the side effects of this chemo are not as bad as some. He told us to go ahead with our house concerts (yay)! I love him dearly. We left him and went downstairs for radiation. After that, they checked us in for the chemo appointment and told us to go wait in the waiting room on the second floor. That didn't seem right to me but I'm such an obedient good girl that I did what they said. Should have gone with my gut. Ernie asked somebody when we'd been waiting for a long time. He said he'd go check and then disappeared into the ether never to return. Eventually, Ernie went into the infusion suite and they said, 'yeah, you're supposed to just come in after radiation.' Grrr. So we got started late. First nurse couldn't get a vein, second nurse did. Saline. Steroid. Chemo. They run it slowly the first time to test your reaction so the whole thing took almost five hours (with other appointments). 

It seemed too depressing to go straight home, for whatever reason. We went and had a late lunch, which was lovely until toward the end when we both suddenly could barely sit up straight. I think all the adrenalin drained out of us and we practically crawled back to the car. Our beloved Ann and Bob brought a gorgeous dinner over later for us which was perfect. We tried to watch different shows that had been recommended but we were both so brain dead we ended up watching a particularly bad Hallmark movie. It was about all we were up for. As exhausted as we were, neither of us slept great last night. Ernie, partially because of all the steroids in his system, and both of us just because.

This morning we got up and headed back to the Cancer Center for radiation and our weekly meeting with the radiation oncologist. We had to wait 35 minutes for him which had me spitting and growling but he was so apologetic that he won me over. Late breakfast at Sammy's. We have to stop this but as Ernie said, there's something about doing it that seems to reclaim a bit of normalcy.

Tomorrow: radiation again and then a surgeon inserts his port.




One thought on “The Job

  1. Dear Cynthia,
    I have been reading . . . my heart is with you and with Ernie and those great two kids. You both are people of great strength and courage. I know that you will move into and through this time with that same strength. I am glad to know that your wonderful community of friends are surrounding you.
    Hug to you.