Mixed feelings: “FINALLY!” & “Blegh…”.
With my still damaged pain threshold, I was nervous about the needles. The sisters were friendly and happily answered my questions. Inserting the single needle into the port was easier than I expected. The painful part was the quick jab to the upper arm that I had before treatment. It kicked like a mule, that stuff. Or, rather, what I imagine a mule kick to feel like… I don’t remember what it’s for though. I have a few bags of clear liquid before the chemo – saline, an antihistamine solution, steroids, anti-nausea meds.
I thought the room might be filled with old, grey-paloured, dying solemnity. There were some visibly weak people but mostly, they were pretty jovial, a mixture of ages, friendly and talkative.
Some time into my 4-hour session, when I looked around, most people had fallen into thoughtful silence. It seemed to me it’s too easy to let time waste away here so I vowed to always be busy – either with a book, or Sudoku puzzles, colouring stuff. I’d had the foresight to come prepared this time and happily distracted myself playing Scrabble with my friend who’d come with me.
At the end, I was sent packing with a lucky packet of tablets – more anti-nausea meds – for the following few days. Wish me luck.