Chemotherapy: Day One

I know I’ve mentioned that chemotherapy is a poor spectator sport, but I can now tell you that even for the participants, it is pretty banal and relentlessly boring. Suddenly the concept of watching corn grow seems truly exciting. Or paint drying, now that would be an amazing time!

But here I sit in the infusion ward at the Providence Cancer Center, with my sister keeping me company. It is a beautiful day; we can see the sun out the window.  I would like to be out in the sun, enjoying the fine day. But no, instead I am forming an intimate bond with cisplatin and etoposide, the two poisons I get to take in today, along with baggies of water (spiked with potassium and some other really fun minerals or vitamins or whatever) and a couple of anti-nausea medicines.

If all my calculations are correct, I should be about half way done with today’s extravaganza. Today is the longest of my chemo days, as I get both of the meds. Tomorrow (and the rest of the week) I just get etoposide. Etoposide is the more benevolent of the two chemo meds. It stands alone. It doesn’t require bags of water or anti-nausea medicine. Next Monday, I just get the cisplatin, but it does come with a baggy of water and the two anti-nausea meds.

And then I am done until Day 29. I’d tell you how to figure out which day is day 29, but frankly, I haven’t a clue. It is one of those mystical formulas that are used to forecast random dates, like Easter.

And tomorrow I begin radiation. It may not be any more eventful then chemo, but it is mercifully faster.

I know. You’re all jealous. You’re all thinking, “Damn that Mac, he has all the fun!”

It's true. I do have all the fun, and I'm not even blond!