Hurry up and Wait, Wait.

Saturday May 27th -Day Negative 5- After what seems like an eternity, it is my first day of chemo. Covid set me back an extra ten days but I am now here. Check-in was at 8am in the lobby of the Charlton Building. Nobody at the desk so I, accompanied by my mum and dad, make our way to Station 9-3 in the Eisenberg building. I feel like I have already spent so much time in these buildings that it is no problem for me to navigate my way to care. They are ready for me when I arrive. They settle me into room 9-303. I’m immediately comfortable. This is going to be great. I have a comfortable bed, a medium sized television, and a picture of Jesus that looks like Jim Morison that has eyes that seem to follow you. It’s not so bad.

I’m excited to get rolling. My nurse, nurse Laura, comes in almost immediately to start fluids. I’m so glad that I have a port in my chest. I don’t love anything coming into or out of my body but if it needs to be done I’m happy that I am never being stuck by a needle to do it. RN Laura puts in the orders for my chemo drugs and seemingly shows up five minutes later all covered up and ready to rock. I’m ready to rock. It sucks that I am going through this but I am very fortunate to be at the Mayo Clinic. I go through the first drug easily, feeling relatively the same the whole way. Laura comes back with my pre-meds for the second drug, Cisplatin. This is the bad drug. This is the drug that does the damage. Luckily I get these great pre-meds though. A few steroids and IV Benadryl. IV Benadryl is my new favorite drug. Paired with the steroids it created this high that you could almost not stand. The Benadryl gives this warming sensation that almost wants to immediately drift you off to sleep; But ‘HELL No’ says the steroids as they just almost focus me and keep me awake to feel the full effects of the Benadryl. It’s an edging feeling. Almost too much. But it slowly becomes less and less dramatic of a high as I sink back to reality. It’s time for the Cisplatin.

I fucking hate eating in the hospital. The Mayo Menu is extensive. Almost four full pages gleaming with food options and I can’t stand to think about eating any of it. It’s a mental thing. It gets in my head how gross this food could be and how it’s made in a mass kitchen and that it will sit and sweat on the long journey that it takes to get to me. I’m delusional. This is probably top three most sanitary places on the planet. I can’t shake the thoughts though. I order a turkey sandwich. It’s fine.

The Cisplatin runs for the two hours. I still feel fine. It’s time to walk. My trio gets ready and throw on my Morison sandals. We walk down the hall towards Station 9-2 and Station 9-1. I have to keep my mask on now. For the foreseeable future I will be masked up! Shit! 9-1 and 9-2 are units for patients recovering from orthopedic surgeries. I walk and peer as I travel. I make up stories for each pqtient. It’s one of my favorite games. It can blur reality but it keeps my imagination flowing. We continue on. I feel good so we do two laps. As we return to the room I flip the channels to get to the Celtics pre-game. It’s game 6 and the C’s backs are still against the wall. It’s time to rest until the game.

It's hard to rest in the hospital. It always seems like someone is coming in to check your vitals or bring you medication. I manage to drift off for a few minutes at a time. As it approaches the evening my parents depart for a quick dinner. In a selfish attempt to never have to eat hospital food I have them order me a spicy meatball from Chester’s. seems like a good option. A single meatball off of the appetizer menu. My parents bring back my dinner and we watch the Celtics game. They end up winning by one point and survive to force a game 7 in Boston. It’s getting late and time for me to try to go to sleep. My parents depart and promise to be back early in the morning. I miss my Megs. I miss my Megs a lot.