I procrastinated this morning. I mean who rushes to chemo? I was nervous again and not feeling right. I had to keep myself from falling asleep in the strip mall of waiting room chairs.
The nurse I had was new to me, but acted confidant. She instantly redecorated when she whisked me in. The wheely table, used for unwrapping all of the sterilized tools used to poke me, was moved to the other side of the 4 square foot cubicle, and she was very thorough in her knowledge about the lidocaine cream, which is used to numb the port site. Unfortunately she overthought the access, and it hurt a little. She slowed down and doubted, which is death to easy and painless port access. Now I had some knowledge that I could impart, but I was too shaky to give it.
Mom was with me for the poke, but had to leave for her support group. Tom was coming to stay with me and bring lunch. I actually eat during this chemo cycle. While I was in between caregivers, the doctor came to tell me I could not have chemo today. My liver enzymes were much too elevated. He thinks I may be having a very rare reaction to Irinotecan. I go back in next week for more blood tests. He'll consult with my UCSF doctor, but it may be that this chemo doesn't work for me. I don't like to see options go out of the window.
I came home at noon, fell asleep, and woke up at 5:27PM. I'm nauseated and still feel funny. Didn't I just avoid chemotherapy? It may be stress. I'm stressed. We live a life full of low level stress. I am patiently waiting to hear: "It's gone! Go forth and live and enjoy. No need to worry." I should move on from that. The doctors may say it's gone, but they will never tell me not to worry.
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