Treatment #11

So this weekend was my 11th treatment and counting. Only ONE MORE LEFT! I cannot believe how close I am to being cancer free! I’d hazard a bet that I’m currently cancer free and really don’t need that final treatment…but then again I might as well do it. It’s like those people on “The Biggest Loser”…you’ve already lost 120 pounds…what’s 10 more??? That’s how I feel about this last treatment.

The 11th treatment went well. My friend Heather came with lots of gossip magazines and snacks to keep me company. There were really no interesting stories. I went in, got my labs, met with the doctor, and got hooked up to my IV. I did notice, however, that there was a very prominent member of the Chamber there. I’m always amazed at who I see getting chemo. Just goes to show that there are more people than you think who have cancer and who battle it on a daily basis in a very quiet manner.

My parents will be going with me to my last treatment. My dad hasn’t really been, shall we say…”interested”…in sitting with me at any of my treatments. I’m not sure if it’s just because he doesn’t really do sick…or if he didn’t want to impose on my girlfriends sitting with me. But he has said that he would come for the last one. I think he also wants to be there to meet with the doctor and get the final word direct from the horse’s mouth that I am indeed “cancer free”.

After the final treatment I will go in and get another CAT scan done. Woohoo!!! More “Berry Smoothies”. Can you sense my sarcasm? Ugh! I don’t care what you call it and what you do to make it taste better…that barium stuff that lights your innards up on the CAT scan does NOT resemble a fruit smoothie. It more closely resembles room temperature milk of magnesia or something equally nasty and thick.

After the CAT scan I will then be pronounced “cancer free” and can get my port taken out. We’ll hope that my hot surgeon will not puncture my lung getting the port out like he did putting it in. I can’t say I’m really up for yet another hospital stay this year. I’m pretty much OVER the hospital. And what little vacation time I’ve got left…I’d rather use it to visit my family at the holidays or visit my friend Barney this fall in New England.

The good news is…my treatments on Fridays are quicker because I don’t have to do the calcium stuff for my aversion to cold things. But I have noticed that the numbness in my fingers and toes is much worse now than it has been the whole time. Odd that it just started in the last couple of treatments. But it’s a bugger because I can’t hardly type anything only once. I usually have to type the same thing at least twice to get it right…which is highly irritating since writing/typing is generally what I do each day. I’ve also noticed that I’m much more nauseated and tired on the drug that sounds like “I-ran-to-the-can”. It hasn’t made me run to the can like everyone said it would…but it has made me MUCH more nauseated. So much so that sometimes the compazine and the zophran just aren’t cutting it. So I eat things like Teddy Grahams and Cheezits to help stave off the vomiting that I’m sure is lurking just around the corner.

I’m sad that I don’t have any funny stories to share. Though I think by this point in the process…very little is entertaining or funny at my treatments. I just want to get in…and get OUT. The sooner I’m done with each one…the sooner I’m DONE. And of course having to carry my fanny-pac-o-fun home with me each weekend just draws it out and makes it seem longer. So when I say I’m done on the 13th. I’m not really done until the 15th at about 10am when the home health nurse comes to unplug me. But oh, holy, smokes…the 15th is my last day. HOORAY!!! I. CAN. NOT. WAIT! After the 15th…it’s gonna be shove over and pass me the raw fish and where’s the keg! Because we’re gonna PAR-TAY!