Freshman Orientation

Creating a sterile environment.

It's Chemo Eve and my day was full of distracting events like getting the dressing on my PICC line changed by the home care nurse, going to Target and having my "treatment orientation" at the oncology office.

Treatment orientation is a lot like freshman orientation in that you are new meat. And considering my doctor's "section" in the infusion room consist of middle-aged men being treated for prostate cancer, I will be redefining "new meat" when I walk in tomorrow morning! It's a good thing my boyfriend will be with me. Those middle-aged men hooked up to IV polls can be very aggressive I hear.

There were really no surprises today, and I'm not just referring to my trip to Target that has many of you shocked. It had been 3 whole days since I was last there, so it was totally justifiable.

I'd already had a little tour of the infusion room last week. And hearing about ALL the possible side effects over and over again just never gets old! The nurse even added a few more to the list like the palms of my hands and soles of my feet getting so dry they peel and blister! That's going to make flip flop season all the more special, because heaven forbid I wear anything but flip flops come June. Maybe I can bring back the socks-with-flip flops look that was so cool back in, uh, in, um, never mind.

I also got a little peak at my pump, and I hate to disappoint everyone who was planning an 80s party on my behalf, but it's less of a fanny pack and more of a European Man Purse. Kyle will be jealous because without fail, that's the number one thing on his Christmas list every year. And yet each season, I manage to over look it and get him romantic things like socks and undershirts.

I've staked out a prime recliner for tomorrow, packed a bag full of fashion magazines enlightened reading material and expect to sit for 4 hours in complete awe that I'm even there, amongst them. It has only been two months since I even found out I had cancer, and I have been around the world and back again with a file two inches thick to prove it.

Here's to the next 6 months. May they be the only 6 months.