Hi everyone...this is Judy, Sarah's mom..and I am writing a long post today.
Last Thursday, just a few days ago, was Sarah's 4th and last chemo treatment. We have come to call chemo day....infusion day.
Infusion day is the day you go to the chemo room and sit in a recliner, have a lovely heated blanket if you wish, visit with family and friends, bring sandwiches and drinks and snacks, meet some great people, get hooked up to your IV which will drip saline, anti-nausea meds, your chemo combination, done individually, so you know what you react to if you react at all and then your final drip of saline again.
From the time you arrive until the time you leave you can count on around six hours.
Sounds like a piece of cake doesn't it? The truth is, getting chemo is not the hard part. The hard part comes after you leave. You are never sure when the side effects are going to hit. Sometimes they hit while you are in the chemo chair. Sometimes they hit before you get to the elevator. Sometimes they hit the next day or in two days. But, rest assured, they will hit.
This last chemo was supposed to be a "woohoo" experience. It is what was expected. There was supposed to be a "high." When someone graduates from chemo, there is applause in the chemo pod. Yes, there is an end....an end to having to schedule the next chemo, an end to having to show up for another chemo and a projected end to the side effects from chemo…(not there yet!)
But….but…but…there is a truth you can’t know until you are on this journey. And, all we can do is tell you our story….try to tell you what it is really like, at least for us…for Sarah.
Finishing chemo, being done with infusion day, is not a “woohoo” experience. It just isn't. When you are done with the side effects, THEN, you are done with chemo. When you don't have to go back to chemo, and feel halfways decent, THEN, you are done with chemo.
Today is Sunday, chemo was Thursday, and Sarah has had two of the roughest days since chemo started. The physical side effects are similar to the other chemo’s. She has had nausea, loss of appetite, when she does eat her stomach hurts and she is so, so tired.
What is worse this time has to do with the emotional side effects. I don’t know if it has to do with the end of chemo and a letting down after holding herself together for so long, or the cumulative physical side effects, or the fact that her body is being thrown into menopause, or the fact that she watches her body and face look different, or the fact that being bald (while ok and fun for a while) has lost its appeal, or that she has missed and is missing time with her boys makes her sad, or that this thing called cancer has happened at all makes her sad…..I don’t know. I think all the above and more is probably the truth.
Sarah is sad and Sarah is mad. And, as soon as Sarah says any of it, she quickly says, “I know, I know, I am so lucky!” And, then she says, “But, I don’t want to be lucky. I don’t want to have to feel lucky!” She goes on to say, “I want to be normal. I want hair. I want to go back to my life.” “I want to spend time with my boys.”
As I write this entry Sarah is sleeping. She has slept a lot today. Most of this entry comes from our talking late last night. She is letting down. She is letting it out.
You know, Sarah is always Sarah. She wants others to know what this is like. What it is really like…..from the inside out. She just doesn’t have the energy to do the writing herself right now. It is too much for her. I will be her voice as best I can…..as long as she needs me to be.
My favorite thing she said last night, in the midst of the anguish was……..
“I don’t want to be Chemo Sarah anymore. I want to be Chemo Sabi!”
How I loved that! How I love you Sarah! Mom xo
Last Thursday, just a few days ago, was Sarah's 4th and last chemo treatment. We have come to call chemo day....infusion day.
Infusion day is the day you go to the chemo room and sit in a recliner, have a lovely heated blanket if you wish, visit with family and friends, bring sandwiches and drinks and snacks, meet some great people, get hooked up to your IV which will drip saline, anti-nausea meds, your chemo combination, done individually, so you know what you react to if you react at all and then your final drip of saline again.
From the time you arrive until the time you leave you can count on around six hours.
Sounds like a piece of cake doesn't it? The truth is, getting chemo is not the hard part. The hard part comes after you leave. You are never sure when the side effects are going to hit. Sometimes they hit while you are in the chemo chair. Sometimes they hit before you get to the elevator. Sometimes they hit the next day or in two days. But, rest assured, they will hit.
This last chemo was supposed to be a "woohoo" experience. It is what was expected. There was supposed to be a "high." When someone graduates from chemo, there is applause in the chemo pod. Yes, there is an end....an end to having to schedule the next chemo, an end to having to show up for another chemo and a projected end to the side effects from chemo…(not there yet!)
But….but…but…there is a truth you can’t know until you are on this journey. And, all we can do is tell you our story….try to tell you what it is really like, at least for us…for Sarah.
Finishing chemo, being done with infusion day, is not a “woohoo” experience. It just isn't. When you are done with the side effects, THEN, you are done with chemo. When you don't have to go back to chemo, and feel halfways decent, THEN, you are done with chemo.
Today is Sunday, chemo was Thursday, and Sarah has had two of the roughest days since chemo started. The physical side effects are similar to the other chemo’s. She has had nausea, loss of appetite, when she does eat her stomach hurts and she is so, so tired.
What is worse this time has to do with the emotional side effects. I don’t know if it has to do with the end of chemo and a letting down after holding herself together for so long, or the cumulative physical side effects, or the fact that her body is being thrown into menopause, or the fact that she watches her body and face look different, or the fact that being bald (while ok and fun for a while) has lost its appeal, or that she has missed and is missing time with her boys makes her sad, or that this thing called cancer has happened at all makes her sad…..I don’t know. I think all the above and more is probably the truth.
Sarah is sad and Sarah is mad. And, as soon as Sarah says any of it, she quickly says, “I know, I know, I am so lucky!” And, then she says, “But, I don’t want to be lucky. I don’t want to have to feel lucky!” She goes on to say, “I want to be normal. I want hair. I want to go back to my life.” “I want to spend time with my boys.”
As I write this entry Sarah is sleeping. She has slept a lot today. Most of this entry comes from our talking late last night. She is letting down. She is letting it out.
You know, Sarah is always Sarah. She wants others to know what this is like. What it is really like…..from the inside out. She just doesn’t have the energy to do the writing herself right now. It is too much for her. I will be her voice as best I can…..as long as she needs me to be.
My favorite thing she said last night, in the midst of the anguish was……..
“I don’t want to be Chemo Sarah anymore. I want to be Chemo Sabi!”
How I loved that! How I love you Sarah! Mom xo
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