Chemical Cocktail Report- Wednesday:
My second session of chemotherapy. This one only ran five hours. My personal entourage consisting of Charles and friend Danna accompanied me like flies tracking potato salad. The Doc had to face questions from all three of us, but he took it good naturedly. The blood result was very good, actually improved over the baseline; I wondered if they made a mistake the first time. Danna says it’s my improved diet. Other than a summer-thinning of hair that the birds can use in nest building, I am still feeling pretty good.
Danna, having had a husband go through lots of cancer treatment, and being a many-year advanced placement biology teacher, got with the nurse and the medical dictionary to go over the blood work. We also spent some time plotting out our next Callie Houston novel. Friend Kathy brought over sandwiches for lunch and stayed to chat. The time went quickly as we solved several world problems and forwarded the solutions to Congress addressed, to whom it may concern. We don’t suppose it will be delivered. I didn’t have a chance to work on the ever-so-interesting-not ISO standards.
All the patients in chemotherapy are in close proximity. We try not to wake the people who go to sleep. Nevertheless, I suppose we wind up being somewhat more boisterous than most. Comic, if not cosmic relief. The nurses find themselves coming in to chat us up. We observe couples who are drowning in fear; I wish I could somehow encourage them to stop sacrificing their now out of fear for their future. I’ve learned that I might as well enjoy these experiences while I can, even though saying this seems a bit weird.
Summer heat was here, and the city is in drought-stage 1. Then we had a change of weather and Thursday dawned cool. I didn’t feel any different but both Charles and Danna commented at morning coffee that I had bright rosy cheeks, very much like a sunburn. At least they could have talked about my youthful appearance. I wear my Oz hat that I picked up from Trim’s not far from Victoria Square in Adelaide, South Australia, for the shade. Charles says that my cowlick is gone. It’s in the back so I didn’t notice when it fell out.