On Aug. 20, 2008, change was forced upon myself and my mother as she was diagnosed with Peritoneal Cancer, and or ovarian cancer.
Since then things such as Supraventricular Tachycardia, (SVT) and Chemotherapy have become a part of life.
My mother went for her first dose of chemo on Sept. 10.
It was my first time to see a chemo treatment room and it was an overwhelming experience.
A friend, Jerilyn, made the trip to the Oklahoma University Physicians Building in Oklahoma City with us and she too was overwhelmed.
We checked in and then was led to a room by a chemo nurse.
The scene is one of recliners and beds full of bald people hooked up to intravenous drips.
The smell is one of medicine that brings on an undesirable sensation in my nose and throat.
It makes me wonder if healthy people should even be breathing such an odor.
I live in a refinery town and I do believe I would rather smell the fumes of ConocoPhillips compared to Chemotherapy.
After entering the room, we were directed to another treatment room which was not as crowded and not so overwhelming.
My mother was placed in a recliner and soon a nurse came over and hooked her up to an IV.
We had been given no details on how this works.
As it turns out, the chemo she is given takes five hours to distribute.
I have since learned that chemo treatments can be as long as nine hours and that some people endure this once a week or even three times a week.
In our case the drip is started with a bag of Benadryl followed by the toxic concoction that not only destroys cancer cells but also good cells in the body.
Like most people I think we were and somewhat still are dealing with a case of this can't be happening to me.
A couple days after the first treatment she landed in ICU, sick with upset stomach and the SVT.
The same thing happened after the second round and the doctor said we may have to do this every time.
After the third treatment her hair fell out and the SVT continued as did the trips to the emergency room.
All of this lead to the reality that this was happening and we were not going to escape it any better shape than the others.
During this time, I had observed and listened to stories from others receiving chemo for female type cancers.
There is the insurance sales woman who went on vacation and suddenly had her abdomen swell up. She said she looked nine months pregnant.
She went to the doctor and was diagnosed and set for surgery.
On chemo number two, a lady entered the room dressed in business attire, carrying a briefcase.
I thought she must be a drug saleswoman coming to give a sales pitch or deliver an order.
Wrong!
She was a patient coming for her weekly treatment.
I was in shock. Not only was she a working woman coming for chemo. But she does it every week and continues to work.
She said she started gaining weight after the holidays. She saw her doctor and was told she needed to watch her diet and exercise.
She did this but the weight gain continued. After several months she was diagnosed with cancer.
Everyone in these treatment rooms have stories that should be told in an effort to educate others. These cancer victims are fighting for the right to live everyday.
They view their chemo nurses as friends and heroes because they are distributing deadly drugs that are prolonging and saving lives everyday. However it takes a strong person with the will to live to endure what the nurses are distributing.
After three rounds of chemo, surgery was done on my mother.
It consisted of a complete hysterectomy, tumor removal and the removal of the greater omentum which is a large fold of peritoneum that hangs down from the stomach.
The doctor explained that the size of cancer riddled tissue removed was equivalent to the size of family size frozen lasagna found in your grocer's freezer.
In the end not all of the cancer was removed. He said this type of cancer cell develops like frosting on a cake and that some cells were located on the liver and diaphragm.
The good news was they have not metastized.
The bad news, trips to the chemo room continue.
I continue to collect knowledge, fears and feelings of anger from these experiences.
I have learned that chemo is not an instant end to the world like I had thought.
There are people continuing a somewhat normal life while undergoing chemo treatments.
But for others and their care takers it is a life changing experience forced upon on them that consumes a large portion of their lives.
For those who have not experienced this you can't understand.
No matter how much you think you do, trust me you don't.
Until you walk in these shoes you have no clue.
As my journey continues in the chemo rooms, I will write these stories in hopes of educating and informing others about this dark side of life that millions of people are experiencing everyday.
It contains, sickness, frustration, financial disaster and terms such as chemobrain.
So stay tuned for what I hope becomes a collection of stories that helps someone somewhere.
