Chemo Round 2

One of the hardest parts of this journey is the highs and the lows.  It hits me like a bolt of lightning.  Some days, (no offense intended) I feel a little bipolar.

I had a little cry last night.  Kent was stroking my mostly bald head (I love people playing with my hair), and it kind of hit me.  I didn't want to face today but I am Kim and I am going to continue to face trials head on.

I was up this morning, off to the hospital with Melissa, not happy to be there, but resolved that I had to do this.  We got stamps for her wedding invites, coffee from Starbucks and a sandwich from Safeway.  As we walked to the hospital -- I was feeling more buoyed.  I know that people were praying for me.

I took my seat, I got an amazing nurse named Barb--she was really good at her job, super personal.  She got the IV on the first try....super unusual for my experience in the chemo room.

We settled in for what could be a 4-6 hour day.

Shortly after we arrived a man sat across from me.  We were most likely 3 feet apart.  Patient confidentiality is NON existent in that room.  I heard he had a rash from something, they had written his orders in a very messy way, his nurse (not Barb) started his IV, he did well, then she started his medications.

Then it happened.

He fainted or had a seizure.  I honestly thought we watched him die.  The nurse didn't handle the situation well, yelling for her co-workers.  I was thinking...lay him down.  Lay Him Down.  LAY HIM DOWN!!!

Finally, probably 15 seconds he was laid flat, oxygen on at 6L, and the head nurse was rubbing her knuckles into his chest; hard.  I was cringing, I had my hands over my mouth when it hit me.  Everyone can see me, no one can see him.  They know something is up--by my reaction.

I took my hands down and started to pray.  It took 3.5 hours for him to recover--then they started his chemo.

The GP Oncologist and another Medical Oncologist showed up and the nurse said, all I did was start the IV, but I heard her say to the head nurse that she stopped the medication immediately after his reaction.  I think it was said for our benefit, the patient's benefit.

Hours after that the littlest, oldest lady came in, if I didn't know better I would think she was in her 90s.  She looked around and says, "Everyone has a pole.  We should be pole dancing."  Melissa and I start laughing...and I got a glimpse of my future self.

I will still be laughing until 90.