debutaunt.com

What's That Sound

Why, it's the sound of my little coffee maker at 5am brewing my yummy Swiss Chocolate Almond coffee.

NOT

The night tech coming in to draw blood.

Ahhh... the comforts of home.

I've got an 8:15 appointment today to get some labwork done and reviewed. See, with leukemia it's all about the numbers and the waiting. And you do this sometimes 3-4-5 times a week. It's agonizing and draining.

Kind of a cart/horse thing, they have to know where your blood levels are before they can figure out the next steps in your treatment. Platelets low, give her some. Double check, do a bone marrow aspiration. White blood going up, numbers good, on to more chemo.

But going to the hospital to get these tests done is heartbreaking. And quite the ordeal. You walk into the lab waiting room and see so many faces. The first time I went, it was so crowded. Like at least 200 people. Most patients need to bring someone with them, like me, because they can't drive or walk or see correctly.

And it reminds you that cancer doesn't descriminate. There are young and old, Black, White, Hispanic, Asian - name one, because they are all there. Men, women, no kids (they go elsewhere), and under age 12 visitors are banned from the floor. I've heard Arabic, British accents, Spanish, Chinese. They have translators for any language at the hospital. Wealthy, poor, in between, we all have to wait.

It's a place that I feel comfortable, yet uncomfortable. I recognize people now and some remember me. We talk. I see many bald heads, so I don't mind taking off my hat if it's too warm. I remember names and faces of the techs and admissions staff. The Physician's Assistants and Nurses recognize me.

There are people in various stages of treatment. Those newbs with hair who have or haven't started their chemo, like me once upon a time. Fresh faced or worried, they all are unsure of what to expect. The old timers in remission. Stronger looking and able to walk on their own. Some look battered, but their strength shows. They usually walk much faster than the rest of us.

The sassy older ladies who talk to you. They are going through what I am. I met one in the lab (it's like a cattle call), and she looked fantastic. She was in remission, but we talked about the chemo and she was asking about my treatment. We joked about losing hair and doctors and cathaters. I think she liked my spunk, and I liked her spirit. Here she was, had to be in her 70's, and she had a head of white hair. She was dressed so elegently, yet sat there like a trooper as the tech poked her arm just like the others. (I get mine drawn from my central line, so yay for no poking)

I have met a few people, Pam and Jeff. Two patients who have what I have. They both were further along in their chemo rounds, and both looked a bit worn. I talked to them, and I think I raised their spirits a bit. It was nice to make someone who had looked so down smile.

I am trying really hard not to get down during any of this, but gosh, they don't make it all that easy on you. I can see how it get old. Now you see why laughing and laughter and friends are so important - a part of your healing team. Your support network is key, and keeping your spirit up is going to be mega important.

Because there are some who just look defeated. Or angry. Tired mostly and tired of the waiting. Because we do have to wait. Sometimes for hours. Tired of treatment, tired of life, and they look like they are wondering, "Why me, Lord?"

All it takes is one quick look around that waiting room to know, why *not* me.

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Now on to Fun stuff.

Now thanks to Kim in NYC, I have a glamourous pink boa to add to my diva collection. Right now it's hanging next to the green one, and is an added reminder that there will be life after cancer and one day I will wake up and say, "wow, I didn't think about cancer today." It's a day I can't wait for. It's a day I know will come.

And woo woo for Rachel. She quit smoking and working out. I challenged her to minimum 30 minutes exercise a day, and no tv watching unless she is working out while watching or already finished. She's a kickass chick and I know she can do it. Rach, babe, I'm so proud. Go holla at her a bit and give her some props. That's some hard shiznit to do, but so worth it, especially when you have a kid as cute as Rachel's.

I also got a bunch of cards from the Deb Fund donations. My favorite was one that was SWAK (sealed with a Katana [an Uma/chemo joke]) and had a little sword drawn on it.

Many of the cards made me tear up, as they were from my sister's friends, both in town and from afar, strangers, old friends I haven't heard from in a while, and family members. Some were apologetic for the small donation, but goodness, those $10 and $20 donations have meant so much to me. There were some whose generosity blew me away. I'm working on the thank yous right now as I'm grateful and humbled by all of this.

Ok. I need to finish up this awesome coffee and get to getting.

Your assignment for today (or tomorrow) is to enjoy your morning. Get up early if you can (or sleep in a bit if you usually are an early bird). Eat something yummy (and healthy) and just savor the morning. It's why I can't stay asleep when I'm home. I love this time of day. If your mornings are hectic, get up early, like way early, before anyone else is up. You never know, you may like the solitude and make it a habit. Regardless, please enjoy it.

I can do this.

Posted by debutaunt at December 2, 2005 05:41 AM