Last week I went on and on about how much I like Nurse Lisa.
Today? Not so much.
"Mrs. Quirkster, you will be given one shot in the arm once a month."
First of all, it wasn't ONE shot, it was TWO.
Second of all, it wasn't in the arm, but in the buttocks. One in each cheek.
So unbeknownst to me I sat in the Chemo Room waiting for my shot(s), a horrific life event was about to unfold.
Lisa was out of the picture by now. She had passed me off to the Chemo Nurses. And boy was this new nurse excited and bubbly. Why was she so excited? I became suspicious.
She had lots to tell me.
"It's refrigerated, so we like to warm it up so it will go in easier."
*heart palpitations begin*
"And it will be administered in two shots, one to each buttock."
I was going to have to pull down my pants?
*full-blown panic attack setting in*
I'm always having to expose myself to strangers. Nothing like knowing that the bright lights of the injection room (yes, they have a special room off to the side of the Chemo Room just for shots) will enhance MY buttocks for an up close and personal experience with the Chemo Nurse.
*breathing in and out of the paper bag...slowly*
Lucky for Nurse Lisa, I don't hold grudges.
I'll forgive her eventually.
It's not easy.
B.S. No Chemo Nurses were harmed during the production of this post. Note: Lisa is not a Chemo Nurse. Bwahahaha!
So I am a couple days early posting for the ever ominous Friday the 13th!
Yeah, that happens this week.
Hence, the Boo!
On that alleged spooky day, I am scheduled to get my first shot as part of the Poloma Study I am participating in, however, the date was not set in stone.
Nurse Lisa: "Let's see when we can get you in... well... we'll get your EKG and lab work on Monday, Tuesday you have your CT Scan and Bone Scan... we'll need a couple of days to get those results, so what about Friday? Oh, but that's Friday the 13th, you're not superstitious are you?"
Me: "Uhm well let's see, I've already got cancer how much worse can it get? Nah, no superstitions here."
Then she laughed.
Then on Monday whilst putting stickers on my torso and limbs for my EKG, Nurse Lisa posed a very sensitive question, "How old are you?"
I told her the dreaded number.
Astonished, she replied, "I thought you were at least ten years younger than me, and I'm 44 years old."
Me: "That's the correct response."
I tell ya: I like this girl.
*insert cheesy smile here*
B.S. No EKG machines were harmed during the production of this post.
Yep, that's the name of the cancer study that I'm participating in!
My oncologist recommended it, but little did I realize how involved it would be.
First of all, there's a new nurse in my life: Lisa. She's very sweet and laughs at my jokes. So I like her. A lot.
Second of all, the study will pay for many future scans and blood work. Suh-weet. Me and my check book like this. A lot.
Third of all, my head exploded. I did not like this. A lot.
Yes, it was not pretty.
How did my head explode?
When Lisa told me that since my last biopsy was in the spring, they would just use my cancer tumor. I was confused. What? The cancer tissue procured during the bone biopsy is not good enough? That's when we confirmed metastatic breast cancer to the bones.
Back to Lisa.
"No, there might be too many bone particles in it. We'll just use the cancer tumor."
What cancer tumor?
Then the light bulb started flickering on. Dang 40 watt bulbs! Makes it hard to process things quickly.
Then it blazed white!
And blew my mind.
They have my original cancer tumor!
She confirmed this very fact.
My breast cancer tumor has been stored in some underground (?), high security (?) vault! There is some dude or dudette who takes care and makes sure nobody accesses my cancer without proper permission. What is this person's title: Tumor Vault Technician?
I had to sign a tumor release.
Apparently, according to Lisa, they keep the tumor tissue for 20 years!
Good heavens. The cancer tumor will outlive me!
I just never knew there was a part of me... somewhere out there.... beneath the pale moonlight?
Still can't wrap my mind around it. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.
The light bulb blew.
*blub, blub, blub, blub, blub*
B.S. No Tumor Vault Technicians were harmed during the production of this post.