I know it's been a while since I have written and for those few who follow faithfully, I apologize but as you know it's Christmas. Things are crazy. People are crazy! You would think that the general public would be nice to one another but WOW, are they ever rude and nasty. And there is definately at least on little boy who deserves nothing but a stocking full of coal for the holiday. Personally his mother needs a good slap in my opinion. What happened to raising your children with some manners? How about some compassion? My little girl was approached last week by a boy, we won't say his name, giggling and laughing and said to her(w/me and his mother sitting right there)"Your Mom doesn't have hair does she Mara?" In that moment, that BRAT ruined her Christmas lunch w/me and her Aunt Kim as she replied "no, she doesn't" she dropped her head and I could feel her heart breaking. Mara had been all smiles before that moment. His mother said NOTHING, turned her whole body in the opposite direction and did NOTHING! He was laughing at my daughter because I am bald. So, knowing he's only 6 and it's her fault he is a brat, he misbehaved the whole time, I stopped him in his smart alec tracks and explained to him that no, I did not have hair, and why.
Please teach your children to ask someone a question w/respect if they have one, and that everyone is different for different reasons, this is what makes us all unique. Not to point and laugh, you don't know what a person faces everyday of their life. This child's mother owes my daughter an apology, but I won't hold my breath. Some parents need to take the time to explain things to their children, don't be embarrassed by them, I'm not. I would rather someone ask me about my illness so I can explain than see them stare and whisper about me. When you do that, you not only hurt me but you hurt my kids. I do not wear wigs because they are uncomfortable, and I will not make myself anymore uncomfortable to make you feel at ease.
OK, back to the story of my illness. I truly do not remember every treatment or every medication that I have been on, I do know that there are ones I will never forget and I do know that there are alot of folders that hold alot of paperwork, sometimes I wonder how my nurses carry it all. Every now and then they will break it down so it's less, and just bring the latest info, like the last year or something. Anyway, after having one chemo treatment, I was scared beyond anything you can imagine to have the second one.
The second chemo was not good. But they tried putting me on a medication to help with the nasea and vomiting, the name of it is Emend and it saved my life, really. I would take it before a treatment and the next two days and it shortened the time I was ill. So, the second time I went for a treatment, Mary picked me up, and we went to the hospital, I saw the doctor and he escorted me to the chemo room. The nurse got me prepped for the IV and it blew, I could feel myself getting light headed and I told her to give me a minute but she didn't listen, and she stuck me again, and missed the vein, when I told her I was going to pass out she still didn't listen and started to wiggle the needle in, trying to hit the vein, the next thin I remember was waking up to smelling salts, three doctors and some nurses and Mary. There are some nurses who just should not be in oncology. I have met my fair share, really. And then there are those nurses who belong only in oncology. I will eventually tell you about Jen and Missy and the wonderful staff that Dr. Sbietan has. But honestly, there is even at least one in that crew that doesn't belong there, I'm sure.
I had a total of 6 chemo treatment like this. It was what I thought at the time the worst thing ever, and at the time it was. My mom would bring me vanilla ice cream and force feed me. Gloria once showed up with a plate of dinner from Mom's on a Sunday and tried to help me eat. If I didn't get out of bed for more than a day, my mother would come to my house and make me get up and get throw all the curtains open. At that point all I wanted was to die. Yes, chemo can be that bad for some people, depending on their disease and the medicine they take. Other people are just fine and have no side effects at all.
The day that my hair was starting to fall out by the handfuls, I called my sister, Lynn and asked her to come over and bring her clippers, it was a Friday. The kids were supposed to be with their Dad and he was going to spend the day with Nick and take Bradley to school. Lynn came over to shave my head and then Mary walked in, and so did my mother. Then behind Mary came Bradley, Nicholas and Mary's daughter Maggie. Each one holding a rose in their little hands. As I sat there in tears and tried not to cry in front of them, they took turns using the clippers and shaved my head. This gave me and my kids some control over this disease. Or so I thought. Later that night I put Nicholas in the bathtub and went to the kitchen for a minute. When I walked back to the bathroom Nick was crying, really crying heavy sobs. I picked him up from the bath and held him to ask him what was wrong and he said "mommy I am so sorry I shaved all of your hair off" he didn't fully understand that my hair was going to fall out anyway, that I was going to be bald no matter what. My son thought he had caused this bald, ugly mess that was my life. My baby boy. We talked about it for a while and eventually he understood. But he was 5. At 5 everything is because of something they did, remember, I was also going through a divorce, in which he lost his home.
Sorry I need a break.......later.
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