#19 - The Big Dud

I wish that I could say that I was super duper stoked, after I finished the last round of chemo but I never did get that moment.  I can think of a few occasions where on great days (school finals, etc)  I would get back to my car, let out a shout, crank the tunes and drive away.  On February 21st,  I headed back to my car after having spent 15 hours in and around the hospital.  I can't recall exactly what I was feeling, but just trying to recall any thoughts or emotions stirs up the smell of chemicals that I probably had in my nose at the time.  MMMMMMMM chemo drugs,,,smell very similar to rubbing alcohol. The actual treatment is contained to the IV, the tubing and the port, but as it hits the circulatory system and your lungs, you quickly begin to exhale / taste / smell some of Johnson & Johnson's finest home cooking.  Anyhow,  I hit the car and headed home in fairly anti-climatic fashion.

Maybe I should do a quick rewind and recap the day.  I left early to make a 7:30 blood draw.  Having become a somewhat seasoned daily commuter, I realized that in order to make MDA I was going to need to hit the road by about 6:00ish. Barring an accident on the concrete luge run that is commonly referred to as the West Park tollway,  I was good to go.  Angie stayed behind to see the kids off to school and joined me as I was finishing up vitals and the blood draw.  We hung around and waited for the visit with the doctor and everything was great with the exception that my next scheduled chemo treatment wasn't on the calendar until July.  A typo had me bumped from the schedule but they were able to find a place for me in the afternoon.  With a few hours to knock out,  Angie and I made our way over to D'Amicos for lunch.  It was pretty awesome and reminded us of being in some of the small restaurants in Italy.  The food was the real deal and it was a great diversion.  We made our way back to the hospital and waited, and waited, and waited.  Finally!  our pager went off and we reported to the main desk.  It was then that we were told that they were so far behind, that we were being moved to another floor and was given another pager to wait.   We finally made it in, got hooked up, and it was on! (time stamp 4 PM)  In a matter of minutes, I was groggy and was on my way out of consciousness.  I remember being a little frustrated and having a hard time getting comfortable. I was tossing all over the place so I thought.  What hadn't really registered is that every time I tossed, 30 minutes had rolled off and pretty soon, it was 7:00.  It was great to have Angie there, and she was determined to stay with me for the last one, but it didn't make much sense for her to watch me sleep. I was going to run late, and the kids needed a mom so she left for home.  As the nurse was pulling the needle from my port, and as she was cleaning up, she made the comment "See you next time".  I suppose this was the moment when I should have jumped, kick my heels together and have shouted something witty, but I didn't even bother sharing that this was my last one. I was afraid I would end up engaged in a conversation I didn't have the energy for. 

In the days since the last round, many people have asked a number of variants to the question "Aren't you soooo excited it's over???".  I still don't know how to properly answer the question.  I have sat here for the last 20 minutes trying to put into words how I feel. Well, make that 30 now.  I am sure that the following won't make sense to anyone but if I put it down now, I don't know that I will ever come back to it.

I am happy that chemo is over, but happy isn't the right word.  Happy seems too strong of a word and shows emotion.  It makes no sense at all but I feel very dead / neutral to being done. I know that chemo is horrible(will not attempt to explain).  Logically I want very much to never have to do it again.  I am terrified of the thought of possibly having to do it again, but for whatever reason, I can't get excited about being done.  Maybe relief is a better word but I don't really feel relieved.  My mind keeps swirling around these points:

• I'm not really done - I still have radiation
• I don't think anyone will ever tell me "You are cured"
• Without a "cured" title, chemo will always feel suspended rather than finished.

Well that was a rabbit hole I didn't intend to go down.  What shows up as a paragraph here, was about an hour of some pretty deep thought.  I guess it was good to process.  I haven't really given much thought to my last treatment.  I certainly haven't attempted to wrap my head around how I feel about it.  I didn't think I would blow my own mind on it,,,,, lol  It is late,

Next Up -  Radiation Therapy Consult and Simulation Run 3/15

Some cool things have happened since my last post.

• Camping with Hudson on the "Be a pig/man" camp out where we hung out with the older boys and cooked a whole pig.

Hudson - Slack Line Beast

A knife and a stick. What more could you ask for?

• Watched Hudson and Gracie grip the wool and bust some mutton at the Katy rodeo.  Gracie's ride was posted on youtube.  Although I am proud of Hudson, his split second ride on "Tornado" and the tears that followed didn't warrant being posted on the internet.

• Made a trip to SA to stop by the Alamo and SeaWorld.