The smell of medical alcohol, clear tubing, drips, the incredible sharp and deep pain when the port needle is inserted, the bleeping of the drip rate monitors, two very efficient nurses and two sisters, a young male chemist who mixes the chemo solutions freshly after the patient arrives for chemo treatment, two oncologists, 4 radiologists, a psychologist, lounges, large comfortable chairs and soothing softly played airport music.
Afternoons of reading my kindle and listening to music on my ipod, and most often sleeping to hearts content to the envy of the other patients.
Ten weeks ago I had surgery, then 5 weeks of daily radiation, then 4 weeks of daily chemo - finished today
From Monday I start with self-injection chemo, (via medical pen as used by diabetics) 3 times a week for the next year, with frequent bloodwork and monthly check-ups.
Both my arms are bruised from having the ports into my veins for such extended times, this morning we had to relocate my port, I formed a clot, on a previous occasion my arm swelled to twice the size, when the port leaked and spilled the saline solution into my arm itself instead of the vein lol - it was frightening at the time.
Now the port is out and my wrists can heal. My treatment has gone well.
My chemo treatment has entailed stimulating my auto-immune system, eg: purposely waking up
(genetically engineered and task specific IntronA chemo) anti-cancer soldiers and
forcing them to be alert and hunt invaders - in my case melanome cancer stage 3 invaders - resident in my lymph system - sneaky buggers, resilient, capable of hiding and goes into lurk mode and then spawns somewhere else predictably in around 12 - 14 months from now.
So I look very forward to this summer