Chemo #14
April 24, 2002

Today was fantastic. I got into the chemo room and everyone immediately jumped into song and dance about how excited they were to see me. They all argued over who would get to play with my fantastic veins. One fight broke out but quickly came to a halt once insults about one's mother were involved and a threat involving various sized needles and a noose made out of an IV was uttered (come on, it's just a joke). I then got my IV started and it tickled so much, I couldn't stop laughing. Then they started my drugs and I felt like running up mountains and dancing for hours. The saline tasted great! Right now I feel like 4 million bucks and I'm seriously considering doing this chemo thing for a few more years at least, as it provides me with joy that I've yet to find anywhere else in this world. I'm listening to "That's the way I like it" courtesy of KC and the Sunshine Band which comes close to providing as much joy but is no replacement.

Right, so the only true part about that is the last sentence. I didn't get to see the doctor today since he was "away" (researching every detail of hodgkins disease and it's treatment paying particularly close attention to bleomycin and the consequences of removing it after the 4th cycle so as to provide me with the best care possible. Or golfing. Who knows.) SO I was just in for chemo today. A couple nurses didn't even want to try starting my IV since my veins are notoriously stupid among eastern ontario oncology nurses. But Suzanne saved the day and did it in one try. I don't pay attention to where I'm looking while needles go in, as long as it's not at the needle. And I tend to make pained faces throughout the procedure. I realized I was staring at a man across the room today. I think he was confused since he couldn't see that I was getting a needle shoved in my wrist and may have been concerned about my facial expression. Oh well, I bet he makes stupider faces when he gets needles.

My neutrophils were low again. Better than last time but only 1.4 (need to be 1.5 for chemo but again, they don't care). I don't know whats up with that, I'm still on Neupogen. I think the drugs have picked up on their ability to cause bone pain and are concentrating on doing that rather than building up neutrophils. I don't blame them, I bet seeing my back spasm is pretty entertaining. Especially for drugs, they don't get out often. I would have thought that getting injected into a stomach as beautiful as mine would be entertaining enough but apparently I have neupogen that is hard to please. I'll try to knock some sense into it. Extra bubbles when I draw it up this time. Then they'll know who's boss. I'm frightened since my sense of humour is gradually becomming more and more centered around cancer and chemotherapy. What happens when I'm done? I'll have to find other cancer patients to make fun of. I already make fun of everyone else though.

My hair continues to grow. The hair on my legs is getting pretty long. It's really light and not noticeable at all but I'm so fond of it. I think there's a bit more hair on my head coming in but it's hard to tell.

Last week it was BEAAAAUTIFUL out for a few days. 35 degrees and whatnot (celcius, that's like 562 farenheit). I've been wearing a hat pretty much constantly all winter, especially when I go out. But in weather like this... there's no hats. So it was a little weird going out without a hat. Most people in the town who know me know what's going on so I wasn't going to get anyone dropping on the floor and screaming (except after I punched them but that's unrelated). And even though I have a bit of hair, it's not normal looking plus I barely have eyebrows and that's not too noticeable since my eyebrows were light to start with but something still looks "off". Anyway, I ended up caring a whole lot less than I thought I would about my newfound nakedness (yeah I could have worn clothes but I was going all out. No dipping one toe in for me, dive in head first, always). But the weather was fantastic, I loved it. I went out for lunch with some friends and we couldn't sit on the patio becuase I was scared I'd get a sunburn on my head. That would be just great. "Well you beat the Hodgkin's alright but you've got terminal skin cancer on your scalp." That'd be no good. But now the weather is back to normal April stuff. Summer's coming though. And it's such a relief to know I can go out and about knowing I just don't care about what reactions I may get to my head.

Ooh, funny story of the week. Last week my Mom finished her courses at school so we went out for dinner. It was a hot day, I wasn't wearing a hat or my eyebrows. The waiter came to take orders and started with my parents and then moved to my brother. And the guy hadn't really looked at me too much and I had a feeling he was about to do something stupid. So he got to me and said "and for you, sir?" I figured it would just embarass him to lift up my shirt and yell "who are you calling sir?!?!?" so I refrained from doing so. But my dad decided to politely point out that I wasn't male. The guy was embarassed and appologized. I've been referred to as a male before when I had short hair and wore gender-neurtral clothes, which is still true most of the time. And I'm fully aware I've got a weird version of a hairstyle common amongst males so people are going to make mistakes. But I was wearing a skirt. And on top of that, sensing that this guy would make that mistake, I took it upon myself to lean as far back in my chair as possibly making certain female characteristics slightly more obvious than normal. But Mr. "I'm an idiot" decided not to notice that. Which I suppose is a good thing and earns him some points becuase now we know where he wasn't concentrating his attention. In any case, it was mildly entertaining.

Everything at chemo went normally. I read all my records again, the recent ones which I hadn't seen. The highlight was the respirologist explaining that my brother has "a sensitivity to cats and trees." It's not that funny but I managed to laugh for days about it. He was referring to his asthma but I just pictured my brother crying immediately upon seeing a cat or tree. See? I still have a sense of humour outside cancer. It branches into asthma too. At one point they described me as having non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. It'd be a funny joke if every time they referred to my cancer, they used a different type, especially if they used prostate and testicular. If I was an oncologist, that's what I would do.

So right now I feel normal. I slept when I got home and felt funny. I'm still tired, still pukey but nothing out of the ordinary. More people come home this weekend and this excites me considerably.

Two more to go, four more weeks. I'm having a party on June 30th, a double whammy for birthday #20 (June 29, officially, keep it in mind) and a "Heather is the master of disaster" celebration. We're playing "pin the IV on the chemo kid" and other fun party games. Not really but the invitation is so funny you'll cry. Seriously. Stay tuned for that. It's going to be absolutely fantastic so if you're in the Ottawa area on that day, bring me some hard liquor. No, but do stop by.

Chemo #15 in two weeks. Chemo #16 in four weeks. Life comes off pause shortly after. Put your hands up in the air, put your hands up. in the air.

The plan for life after chemo involves: 1) a few days of pukiness after chemo #16 but much smiling to myself to make up for it, 2) a month of saying "woo!" and going to shows without worrying about killing myself, visiting people and not worrying about killing myself, driving my car and worrying about killing myself, fellow pasengers and the transmission of my car, 3) turning 20, having a party, being happy, 3) going on a mediterranean cruise with the famililily (hitting spain, france, italy, etc... wow? yes.), 4) going back out to Victoria for August perhaps but at least September, 5) starting school all over again, 6)having my one year diagnosis anniversary party plus my and Rebecca's 10 year friends anniversary party (half my life, what?!?!), 6) having the time of my life yet again but this time enjoying it a whole lot more. Those are all my plans so far and each and every one of them will happen.

Fantastic. I am excited. One month.