Before I get to start chemo I have to go to chemo teaching. It's a one hour class where a chemo nurse and then a pharmacist walk you through what to expect, problems, emergencies and most importantly what is chemo? It's funny how you get thrown into a room full of strangers but you instantly have a strong bond because each of you is living with something that wants to kill you inside of you. When I mentioned to the nurse that I didn't have my anti-nausea meds with me before she could reply at least three people were offering to share their's with me. A selfless act by perfect strangers reminding you that we've all got each other's back.
Carolyn and I went upstairs for my chemo appointment and while I was getting registered the lady from the Cancer Society told me she had an "Afghan" for me because it was my first treatment. Juravinski Cancer Centre has an amazing group of volunteers that make you feel that you're going to beat it and there's a lot of people who are rooting for you. I asked her if I had a choice of a male or female Afghan. I got that blank look of someone who has never been introduced to my sense of humor. I added that I'd prefer a male as they probably work harder. Once again, blank stare. My wife stepped in and pointed out I was trying to be funny. They gave her the blanket and she doesn't even have cancer!
The nurse came out with my bag of chemo and some other stuff like Benadryl and brought us to the chemo suite, one of a few, and I got seated in the easy chair surrounded by other patients. She found a vein and got the IV started. She asked me if I was ok to which I replied, "I think I have cancer but let's keep this on the down low." Watching the drip start it felt awesome knowing there was now something fighting the cancer in my body. She then came over with a big set of cooking mitts and similar boots that would chill my hands and feet to slow down blood flow and reduce the chance my nails would fall off. Shortly after the Benadryl knocked me out and I slept for the rest of the hour.
Cancer sucks...a lot but it's times like this you realize how great life is. I'm surrounded with people coming out of everywhere supporting me and that makes you realize how much you love life and there's so much more to do. I always thought when I had to face death I would regret all those books I hadn't read. Thomas Hardy's Return of the Native comes to mind. Nope, hasn't happened. When I got my diagnosis the first thing I thought about was how I still have no intention of reading that book.
The biggest thing I've come to appreciate is how much you enjoy a short message from someone, a kind word, a good zinger. I'm alive today and it was a great one. I have my team back in the gym in five days and we've got a lot to work on with twenty practices and three tournaments left. A full season with cancer and I feel like the luckiest man in the world.
"You want me to take him outside and kick the shit out of him?"
Ricky "Wild Thing" Vaughn, Major League
#shitkickcancer
3 comments:
Paul, you are a true inpiration to anyone that reads your blog. Thinking of you all. Keep up your great sense of humour.
Watching your blog like a 'awk! (Or so they would say in Newfoundland.)
Hi Paul, you don't know me but I knew your Mom. She spoke of you often. I am glad to see that you have her quick wit :-) Sending healthy thoughts your way.
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