Hello. I'm here for my drugs

I suppose every option in life would allow one to make entries into the plus vs. minus column. Definitely in the plus column of taking the four steroid pills the day before my first chemo session was the minimizing of my right knee pain and maximizing of its mobility. In the minus column: Insomnia. Not a wink of sleep Tuesday night. Well, maybe one, most likely right before the alarm went off at 4:45 a.m. Maybe I would be able to nod off during chemo. But first, I had a 5-hour work morning ahead of me, and I was pretty sure sleeping on the job would not go into their plus column.

One thing Dr. B. had advised in our discussion of chemo treatment and its effects was that bringing something icy cold to drink, or a cup of ice to chew upon, serves to close the capillaries in the mouth and prevent mouth sores from being one of the adverse reactions. I filled a big plastic lidded cup at work with ice and took off at 11 a.m. to return home. Initially, I'd had every intention of driving myself to and from the doctor's office, but neither Jeff nor my friend Linn thought that was a first-rate idea. Jeff planned to take me and keep me company at the beginning, then leave and head for home to get some rest. He was supposed to leave at midnight and drive a customer's car to Scottsdale, AZ. Complication: a big snowstorm scheduled to blow through Illinois and down through Missouri, beginning around midnight. I wanted him out of the doctor's office and home by 1:30, so that he could sleep 'til 6 p.m., have some dinner and be on the road by 7 p.m. that night. Besides, Linn was coming to sit with me 'til the treatment ended when she got off work about 2 p.m. She'd volunteered to bring me home.

I threw together a sandwich, banana, orange, cookies, water, soft drink and a good book to read. All together, I'd be engaged for about four-and-a-half hours at Dr. B.'s office. She wanted the drip to proceed slower than usual for the first treatment so that she could monitor my reactions.

First thing I noticed when we arrived was a basket on the office counter of colorful knitted hats that had been handmade by a group of women who donate "comfort" items for breast cancer patients -- like the seatbelt pillow I'd been given upon diagnosis. Fully aware I'd be needing a head warmer sooner than later, I picked a multi-hued blue one. It warmed my heart as well that perfect strangers do such thoughtful things for other perfect strangers. I suspect, however, that cancer of any type invades every family at some point and makes us all less strangers.

I was discretely weighed and then cuffed for the blood pressure arm pumping. With all my testing since November, I'd had my blood pressure taken on a regular basis and it had elevated from my normal and acceptable range. I attributed this less to the stress of illness than the fact I had not worked out at the club since early November. Between surgery and then both knees imploding, I had entered into the longest slothful era of my adult life. Obviously, I was starting to pay a penalty for that.

I was the only treatment patient that day, so I had a choice of recliners in the room. Jeff settled into one as well. In charge of my chemo treatment is a friendly, knowledgeable, efficient and altogether nice and fun woman named Chris. She inserted the pic line in my left hand and drew blood for the pre-treatment blood panel, which is run on the spot. The results were good. All systems go.

I leaned back, with my "picked" hand resting on a pillow on my lap and watched as Chris started a drip of anti-nausea medication -- more or less a liquid version of the Dexamethason I was taking in pill form. I made sure to keep drinking from my icy beverage, even though the chemo hadn't begun yet. Just like I didn't want lymphodema as a breast cancer souvenir, I didn't want mouth sores as a chemo bonus.

Dr. B. stopped in to see how I was doing and I introduced her to Jeff. We talked for awhile and then I encouraged Jeff to go home and get some sleep. I had my lunch, I had my book, I had my drugs and I had some quiet time. I was fine.