Progress Report 3

Dear Support Group
This Monday was my 3rd treatment. The experience was different only because I decided to change locations and go to a new office that is a little closer to my house. I really did not know what to expect and was slightly apprehensive especially when I was told that there was no option for a private room which as you know I consider a true luxury. This place is very new and though it fell short of my high interior architectural design expectations, it is a great improvement on the old place. The new space is bright, open and neutral, nothing that irritate the senses, so I give it an 8. (That is “bā” in Chinese for those who watch Superstar Dancers of the World). Another minor drawback is that my doctor is there only on Mondays which makes it a pretty busy day for him. It was an hour before I got to see him. Last week’s miraculous experience with the needles left me with a fearless attitude that deleted any phobia, which in turn led to a miraculous repeat of a painless finger prick. The doctor’s visit was short. The platelets are down so the chemo dose is further reduced. It will be raised again next week. This is so far the most visible side effect but manifested only on paper. I had a pretty good week and still feel pretty energetic and remain grateful for it. We are pointed to the treatment room and casually told to just pick a spot. The room is pleasant and quiet, with recliners lined in an L shape around a nurse’s station, that reminded me of an airline check-in counter. By the door is a visitor/family seating area with a large table that had an equally large unsolved puzzle. Now Yasmine has an extra reason for wanting to tag, as it’s one of her favorite pastimes. A small wing wall separates this spot from the first recliner which was available and which I picked for its convenient location. Actually the room was almost empty for the exception of 2 other older ladies, one sitting in middle and one on the far end. I began settling down laying my stuff, and the 2 ladies perking their head to check out the new comer; greeted me with a smile and a hello, and almost in tandem asked me if this was my first time. I totally understood at this minute what was going through their minds. In their eyes I could read, do you have any questions? we are here to help you, we are in the same boat. I was in a pretty good mood but didn’t really want to get into what I knew could be a long life story exchange, so I smiled back and assured them that I was just new to this location. Been there done that many times and have a ton of pink ribbon t-shirts to prove it. The nurse came to run the meds by me and to verify my identity. They do that every time, every drug; name and date of birth and a picture on the label for undeniable confirmation. The nurse tells me the picture does not look like me. That is the third time a nurse says that. It’s a 2 year old picture they took with a webcam. I like that it does not look like me because it implies that I am not the same person and that my mistake theory holds. She asks me if I believe it’s a mistake and I answer: “Yes, and it is being fixed right now”. “Yes it is” she affirmed as she started my infusion.If you are interested in my theory on the “mistake” keep on reading, if not feel free to skip to the last paragraph. My thought is that somehow my life’s paperwork got misplaced in the heavens and my name was not removed from the “C” list as I had previously requested. This is understandable, can you imagine having to run and manage a planet of 6.7 billion citizens, with all the birth and passing’s and requests and pleads received every second of every day. If you are a CEO or a president and think you have problems, think again. So in all the confusion I believed mistakes happen. I sent a petition which was I must say immediately responded to and I was told that it was not as much a mistake as it is that these things take time, but acknowledging the delay, corrective steps have already started. I was asked if I could so kindly cooperate and be patient and just be in this place for a few months while these corrective measures are administered, promising the least amount of discomfort and an extra dose of love and support which were promptly delivered. Of course I agreed.I settled into my first class window seat and thanked the heavens for the empty seat next to me. I plugged in my earphones and selected some Gregorian Chants that enhanced the effect of the pre-med infusions. Lunch arrived shortly after; followed by a compulsory nap and a relaxing foot massage. I received a lot of requests from girlfriend inquiring about Sharbel’s foot massage technique and if he would be willing to teach their husband how to do it. I thought that this may be a very good post retirement career for him but restrained myself from suggesting it because I knew he would attribute such a thought to my Chemo-Brain. So sorry girls ;ain’t gonna happen.I apologize if my emails are getting longer, you’d think things would get repetitive by now but it is truly therapeutic, so thanks for listening and taking the time to read my reports.
Will keep you posted
Much love
nevine