I passed another cancer milestone today, with my first stint of chemotherapy. If you have read my earlier posts, you will know that I have been dreading this. The idea of being pumped full of poison feels alien, surreal and monumentally weird, especially when I have been feeling so well (aside from that pesky tooth infection, of course). But I know that chemo is the best line of attack to put this cancerous beast into retreat and give me a good prognosis, so I dug deep and faced the chemical onslaught.
For the first three of the six sessions, my particular cocktail is known by the initials of its component drugs: FEC. Am I the only one to have visions of foul-mouthed Father Jack in my head? (If you are puzzled by this reference, here’s a useful link Fatherted/Jack_Hackett)
Doses four, five and six with be served with ‘T’. No, not a nice cuppa, although that might be forthcoming from the lovely nurses. ‘T’ stand for Taxotere. So if you hear canceree talking about FEC-T, now you know what they are on about.
Today’s session passed without incident. I sat obediently in a comfy reclining chair, while the nurse slowly pushed the poisonous healer through my veins. I was kept company by my wonderful husband and my new chemo pal – a small doll who I have named Olivia. There she is, in the photo. She was made by a lovely woman called Tanya, who like me is a member of a Facebook support group for women going through breast cancer. The group is my lifeline these days, so full of love, support and great advice. The dolls are lovingly crafted from little scraps of fabric. Made with love and filled with hope, as their accompanying label says.
Much like the heart cushion I blogged about in an earlier post here she brought comfort and joy during a stressful time. Plus she made my nurse smile into the bargain!
And now I am home and another wait begins. Cancer is all about the waits, it seems (that, and funny coloured pee – this time a cheerful red as one of the drugs exits my body). I bide my time to see what side effects this has in store for me. Pray with me that they are few in number and mild ones at that, but only time will tell.