In about two hours I’m off to the infusion center for my first chemotherapy session of this course. It will work a lot like last time.
I’ll arrive a little early to have my chest port accessed and blood work done. Then I’ll see the oncologist or oncology nurse-practitioner at 9 am. Then they’ll pull together the drug suite — there’s something like a dozen medications involved. I’ll be in the chair by 10 or 10:30. The primary infusion process will take about four or five hours, I think. They’ll hook me up to the pump, which I’ll go home with and wear for 48 hours. Sometime Sunday afternoon the pump will run dry, I’ll be unhooked, that will be about it.
Last time I did the chemo bottle ritual, but I simply have not been able to summon the motivation to develop a similar ritual this time. The social and emotional landscape of my life is very different on this trip through chemotherapy, and that practice seems like it belonged to another, happier person who isn’t me any more.
I’m also a lot less frightened this time. Which is not to say I don’t have moments of fear and panic, but the Fear has been almost entirely absent. Mostly I’m pissed off. That, and feeling trepidatious.
The human mind is an amazing thing. That something even this horrific can come to feel routine is… bizarre.
Anyway, I’m not sure how much blogging I’ll be doing over the next few days. I may be quite verbose or I may be absent. Y’all will know where I am.
How did my life come to this?