We were up at 5:30 today, out of the house by 6:30 to start the chemo-day across town at 7:00. And I’ll tell you what, ever since Val coughed up those tumor bits I’ve got a whole new attitude about chemo. Chemo is the bee’s knees. Chemo scorches the tumors to cinders. Chemo is my new best friend.
Still, it was awfully early. And I haven’t been sleeping much. And the first hour of chemo-day is a hazy blur of numbers attached to compound chemically words, thorlo-plato-chuckawhatsis, all sorts of percentages like midges in the air around my sleepy head as TerriSue goes densely over Val’s blood draws from yesterday. (It’s so early.) A few things are up, a bunch of things down, all as expected. Means the chemo is working. So it’s not a problem that her platelet count is low: not a problem at all, except that she can’t resume chemo until her platelet count is back up a bit. Wait – what? Low platelets means no chemo today?
TerriSue sends Val over for an extra blood draw. Sometimes the platelets will have bounced back up overnight. We wait another hour, me half asleep in an unforgiving chair with my ear squashed against a pastel painting of fish. Val flips through an O! magazine, sending Oprah’s itchy perfume in thin gusts across my nose.
The results come back. A scarcity of platelets. Thank you for playing. Please come back next week to try again.
So she will. Another blood draw is scheduled for Monday, and if the platelet situation has rebounded (and soon the body should notice its shortfall and set to work upping production), then chemo will resume next Tuesday. (We are scheduled to leave for Montana next Wednesday, so it would be especially nice if the platelets would adhere to this revised schedule.)
Anyway, so there we were. Spat out on the sidewalk, blinking at the sudden light. No chemo for you today, my friends. Even if it’s your favorite new juicy treat. Chemo’s busy today. Can’t come out to play. Go on home.
So, we did. Well, I went groggily to work. Val sent word to halt the entourage from visiting the chemo wing, then went home to sort through paperwork and walk the dog. And after a while, the morning clouds parted and the sun shone through. Air wandered through leaves in shady neighborhoods. And a friend at work with a talent for yard sales brought me a present for my cubicle cave, something I’ve always, always wanted: the eerie union of ectoplasm and sea monkey … my very own lava lamp.