Toxic Avenger

{the view from the chemo ward at the cancer agency}

I got home from my first chemo appointment, and I feel okay. For the first hour, I was the only patient in the room, and then an older lady came in to get her treatment. She had a "port" in her chest, which the nurse told me gives easier access to administer the drugs rather than the iv. It looked a little weird to me though. So I'll stick with the veins for now.



I'm a walking block of poison. If I puke, whoever's cleaning it up has to wear gloves and not come into contact with it. I have to flush twice when I pee to make sure the poison doesn't linger. And Henry wants to chop my hair off now rather than wait for it to fall out so that he doesn't accidentally nick my head when my white blood cell count is low. That whole WBC thing is serious. The nurse told me I have to wear slippers around the house so I don't get cuts or scratches on my feet. Any little itty bitty cut or whatever could give me an infection. And sadly, she also told me that I can't go to LA in two weeks. But I'm going to double-check with the oncologist, even though Henry wants to agree with the nurse and say I can't go. Bah!

So I'm going to cut off my hair tonight, but we're going to do it in front of the kids. I'm afraid that if they don't see me cut my hair off, it would freak them out to just suddenly appear hairless in front of them.

I swapped my California driver's license for a BC one this morning, while I still have hair. So I'm almost a full-blown Canadian! I have yet to take my citizenship test, but how much do I really need to know beyond the fact that Canada has ten provinces? It is 10, right?

Other than having the taste of rusty nail in my mouth, I'm okay. And it's a sunny day!