Im sorry, but I have a date with a needle...

Despite my most valiant efforts, I will not be able to garner a good nights sleep this Thursday eve, the reason, as is the same once every three weeks - Chemotherapy tomorrow.   I like to think that I'm sort of an 'old soul' so to speak when it comes to this more than monthly happening but the truth is, I still have trouble sleeping, out of nervousness, the night before.  

I have the same trepidations every session, as I think most cancer patients do.  First, you should know, due to the severe risk of infection at the time of diagnosis and my inability to remain healthy enough since, I do not have a portacath (d/b/a - 'a port') - These are especially helpful to people who are on longterm chemo, such as myself, whose veins are subsequently destroyed by the countless needle sticks and flowing poison. So naturally while I don't have a fear of needles per se', I do have a fear one day they wont be able to get a peripheral line started and, GOD FORBID, I have to whip out the ole' crotch-eroo and take chemo, essentially, up the whoo haa... Could you imagine walking around the hospital with a bunch of IV tubing running from the pole, down your pants?   Strange, yet totally funny all in the same... 

So I fear that obviously, and I fear my white count (ANC) not being high enough to have chemo.  I bet you didn't know this - but when you have chemotherapy the point is to wipe out the white blood cells which it does very well mind you, however, they need you to rebound just enough, so they can pump you full of more poison and knock your white cells back on its ass.  So for a normal person your white count is somewhere between 8.0 - 12.0... Mine hovers in the area of 0.8-2.0, although as the current cycle ends, naturally my white count gets higher.   Truth be told, I've been denied chemo many times because I haven't had enough of a white count to destroy - Why waste the poison, yes?

In addition, I have other fears, obviously that the cancer will spread, I'll need a transfusion or especially if the Oncologists want to alter, or change altogether my course of treatment.   Then of course there is the hum dinger of all the fears, the one I think every cancer patient has in the back of their mind that they never really want to address... That being, Chemotherapy is no longer a viable treatment option as your illness has progressed too far.  

I try not to think about that, because a scenario like that does not happen over night... A few weeks, yes, but certainly not 'overnight', but the reality is, its a thought I have had, and hate that I have it.  

I usually don't have, if any, an emotional response to these fears though through my own interpretation of the most benign phone call from the Oncology office my mind flooded with these fears a few days ago and I, much to my chagrin and inability to hide it, had a little break down in my car on the way from the hotel to Cedar Point.  It's that type of moment I try to avoid having in front of people because (a.) I don't want pity, but I also don't want to make anyone uncomfortable with my problems.  I think I have made my opinion of myself being 'damaged goods' clear, and I was really concerned that Drew might think I was sicker than I was, or that on the inside I was an emotional roller coaster, neither of which are true.  The comforting hand on my shoulder combined with the "You know that I am here for you..."  sort of washed those trepidations away.  

I can't say I have had many break downs in the past but the few that I have occurred, have more or less been thrust on Lauren, whether or not she's ready for it.  I have shared with her the darkest, most painful times in life and she, while not sugar coating things, reassures me she isn't going anywhere.   I would much rather know, despite all my shortcomings that you'll be next to me to face whatever adversity comes my way... than be spoon fed some line about "its all going to be okay"... Because the truth is, if everything was going to be okay, some crazy third world terrorist would suffer through this, rather than me - but thats neither here nor there... 

I've ventured off topic a bit, but the point I was trying to get at goes back one of my Cardinal Cancer Rules... being, Live Normally.  I think if I sat around all day saying "what if" - I would turn into a hermit, like Nell,  doing absolutely nothing with me life.  I know what my fears are, and I face them and realize - it could be worse, and it is for some people, so sit down, shut up and stick me in the arm with that needle and let the poison flow... 

Now if you'll excuse me - I have a date with a needle...