First, spend a LOT of time getting anxious. Worry about feeling bad, being nauseated, hurting, getting blurry vision and having a hard time concentrating.
Then, decide that so much anxiety is bad, so try to think of something happy. Like George and his ribbons:
Cute, but I’m still anxious. I”m also worried about getting everything done today that I need to get done. Like preparing the worksheets for Faith Formation on Sunday. I can’t go teach, but it’s still important to me to do the work that doesn’t involve potential germ exposure. And if I don’t do it today, it’s going to be really much harder to do after tomorrow’s chemotherapy.
And I can’t forget about the drugs. This time they’re starting steroids ahead of time to try to reduce the swelling and toxicity from the Taxotere. So I’ll take those today and organize my many other medications to start tomorrow.
Speaking of Taxotere, that’s the drug that can cause nerve damage in your hands and feet. So during the whole time it’s being pumped through my port into my veins, we have my hands and feet iced. I’m always sad for the ladies getting chemotherapy at the same time as I do who try it once, last less than ten minutes, decide it’s not worth it, and will end up with permanent painful neuropathy. I certainly need to remember my shawl and my new quilt, though.
My mom brought it down yesterday from Michigan for me. She considered mailing it but it’s far too valuable to me to risk being lost by the post office.
The other thing I need to bring is something to do while I’m waiting to get started. Did I tell you I’m anxious? Just sitting still without something for my hands to do makes it worse. But my fingers are still swollen and I can’t concentrate on anything complicated or that I need a pattern for. So I’ve got to bring a sock in progress.
This one is perfect. Dark yarn so mistakes don’t show. Plain knitting, around in a circle. I don’t need to watch what I’m doing, I don’t need to think, just knit. And try not to be so anxious.
I know! I can share the anxiety. I can tell my children I’m going to wear my new hat to chemotherapy! I wore it to the grocery store last night and one check out person called me “Sir”!!! Emily says I need to wear something under it because you can see from the back that I have less hair than George:
In my opinion, baldness should be perfectly acceptable at an oncology office. It’s not like I’m the only one. I’m probably not the only anxious one, either.