[2020-10-22] Chemo treatment #2
I started writing this post this morning at the Cancer Centre of The Ottawa Hospital's General Campus. I was there today for my second chemotherapy treatment.
Everything went swimmingly. My sister was with me in spirit, as she would have been in the flesh had the hospital allowed cancer buddies to attend with patients. The bigger rubber duckie in the photo below represents my sister, and the smaller rubber duckie represents me. I texted her a photo of the pair with the caption: "You're always with me, and I will always be with you."
I felt that the whole chemo process proceeded more quickly this time. That was due in part to the fact that I knew what to expect. For example, I knew that the Benadryl I was given would knock me out, as it did the last time. I was ready—with Peanut (my funny little pillow) positioned behind my neck, a satiny mask ready to slip over my eyes the moment I became sleepy, and earbuds in my ears to drown out the surrounding noise and listen to music. I slept for about 1 hour of the 5 hours I was at the Cancer Centre.
As so often happens, a perfectly appropriate song was playing on my playlist of favourites once I was all settled and medications were starting to flow into my vein. The song was "Weatherman" by Victory (Spotify, YouTube). It's a beautiful piece about the challenges we face in life and the importance of learning to shine even on cold and dark days:
It's just the way life is, storms will come and storms will go
And you've gotta last, no matter the forecast
It reminded me of something a wise friend said to me recently: "if there is no sun...be the sun."
As much as the song "Weatherman" is about learning to shine for our own sake, it's also about our shining for the benefit of others. The song's final lyrics sum this up:
You’ve gotta learn how to shine
'Cause you never know if your light will be the hope
For somebody else that’s all alone, yeah
The strength I draw from all of you helps me to shine for others. I hope that brilliance comes through in my posts and that my blog provides hope for others on a path similar to mine.
Today, I got a little hope myself from another cancer patient. She had no hair and was choosing not to cover her head. She looked beautiful to me.
This evening, I am tired, but not yet nauseated. That will come in the days ahead. I feel better prepared for pyjama days over the next 3 to 4 days, having gone through it once. I can also take solace in the fact that I've now completed one-third of my chemo treatments—something my niece pointed out. That's pretty cool.
