Skip to main content

Chemo, the story and the aftermath of the first night

Well, as promised, I have a ridiculous story for you!

The hours were winding down and I heated myself up a baked potato a couple of hours have as dinner prior to taking my meds. It's nice and heavy plus bland to keep my stomach settled. Then, we realized the time, about a quarter to 8, Torin is in the middle of his dinner (sweet potatoes), and he needs a bath.

I ditched my dinner and we gave Torin a bath. He is so pissed about the bath that he puked up his dinner and we needed to redraw the bath. Fun times! 

When we are finished, we go downstairs. I reheat my potato and unpack my pills while I wait. Then horror washes over me. It's 8:30. We had been so concerned about getting my chemo that we hadn't gone to the pharmacy to pick up my antinausea meds! We discussed getting them tomorrow and having my first dose a day later than planned. That's fine, but at least we will try to get them tonight since the pharmacy closes at 9pm.

In my jammies, I pop over to the pharmacy drive-through and there is a car in front of me. I'm texting with a friend about the dilemma and they're like "see, you've made it". Then, I realize that at one point my antinauseants were filled at the hospital's pharmacy, not at my local one. I text back, "oh no, don't be too hasty, I haven't made it yet, we'll see if they are here". They were here. However, the bill is considerably higher than one would expect. It's fine, I pay, and look at the bill. One med, $4, the other, $91. Ummmmm what is in there?!

I get home and we make jokes about how my innards are picky and desire only the name-brand designer meds. Then I open the box of the expensive ones. 5 months' worth of doses, whew! $17ish per month is much easier to swallow! ... heh, I said "swallow" and they're pills.... heh. Yes, I wrote that then smiled about it and decided to keep that corny comment to share. heh. 

So then I reheat my potato again and eat it this time.

The rest is uneventful, thankfully. I take my meds in the order recommended, I fall asleep before I get nauseated, I wake up to pee in the night feeling icky but not enough to puke or not fall back asleep. Then I get woken up abruptly this morning, Aaron's parents are here to pick up Torin for the day. I rush downstairs, get the baby packed, and just as they're walking out the door I have a seizure. No big deal, poison plus the stress of being woken up and rushing around is enough for my little red brain button to say "nope" and sound the alarm. That's not new though, I'm fine.

A little tummy uneasiness that is fading as the morning progresses is on par with what happened in the past. The drama about my antinausea meds is new though, and I can handle that.

The first night went smooth, bodes well for tonight! I also don't have to scramble late at night to get my antinausea meds, one less thing to worry about! Not paying $100 a month for meds that keep me feeling well while taking chemo, another thing to not worry about!




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Butterfly Day

( The title of the last blog post indicated that I needed a simple name for this day. I can't remember if someone suggested it outright, or whether they said something to make me think of it, but either way, the name I now use is Butterfly Day. Torin painted on a picture of a butterfly at school on the very day his mother passed, and his teachers had just so happened to put his name and date on it.) Another year has passed, and it simultaneously seems like a short time and a long time. I do still write letters to Danielle, but just haven't been posting them here. The one I just wrote took a lot out of me, in fact, so this probably won't be a long update. When I took over the blog, one of the things that felt important in continuing this legacy was to document not only the grief process, but the process of healing.  Overall, on a day-by-day basis, I'd say I have come to terms with my loss. By that, I mean that, except for days like today, and on a few rare other occasion...
Post a Comment
Read more

Letter In A Bottle

Today, on what would be her 38th birthday, I wrote a letter to Danielle. It's the first such letter I've written, and it was cathartic. I wasn't sure whether I would just paste it here, or just paste parts of it here, or write something else entirely, but I've decided to share it in its unabridged entirety. It re-treads some ground that I've already covered in this blog, but this was written to Danielle; those were not. Most typos are inside jokes or turns of phrase. Happy birthday, Danielle. I love you. First, foremost, and always. My love for you is unconditional, unquestionable, and unquantifiable. I miss you. Lort, how I miss you. I miss your smile, your wit, your kindness, your grace, your strength, your care, your laugh, your sillies . I miss my partner and companion. I miss my babymama. I miss my wiff. I cry every day. I have a little ritual - my specific time for grieving you. When I put Torin to bed, I play him the last video you made. I can watch the video...
Post a Comment
Read more

I need a name for this day that neither cutesy nor grim

Danielle Louise Joanette-Kluck passed from this life one year ago today. As has become a cathartic personal tradition on milestone dates, I've written her a letter, which I share with you below. Danielle, my love, It’s been one year since I held your hand and felt you squeeze mine for the last time. Though only the first of many, it’s still surreal to think about. I went back and read the blogs I wrote and the other letters I’ve written to you (some of which I’ve also published as blogs), and it very easily brought back feelings and memories of the past year. There are a number of moments that I remember like they were yesterday, and that I’ll likely never forget. It seems like a good time to take stock. How are Torin and I doing, one year out? There are a few different axes upon which we can measure, but I think I’m going to upgrade the overall answer from my frequent reply of “okay most days” to “pretty good on average” . I’ve hit a stride in my single-parenthood and feel more c...
Post a Comment
Read more