Chemo Class. Every Pencil has a point - some just get grounded away...

 Dr. P gave me the big chemo pep talk with the very clear expectation that i would be starting as soon as possible. I tried to worm out of it for a week jus to get my head wrapped it. Her resonse was pretty simple. 

NO. NOW.

However, before you can begin chemo therapy - and ps therapy to me is scented candles a tissue and empathy for your pathetic life while sitting in a comfy chair.  Chemo therapy - as i was about to learn is anything but that but you will need tissues.

Liza and i sat in the rear of the classroom - bad ass style - we went early - to get the seats at the back of the bus - but not so early that we looked desperate.  HA. We so were. As if i have to sit thru this so i don't kill myself by catching a cold or something.

Slowly others came in and spaced themselves out in that don't sit too close to each other until somebody has to ask "Is anyone sitting here?". What a motley crew. A mid summers night de- streaming circa 1917 to me. I was the youngest - so i felt -  in the class  - until the 25 year old nurse came in. My arrogance was front and centre. - " No one can teach a "teacher."  Liza quickly wiped the smug from my face and told me to pay attention. PS. people with ADHD need to fidget -  give me back my pencil. (s)   

I was super curious to see what was in my hand out package - oooooo powerpoint - love - and i was was doodling in the margins within seconds. 

Admittedly, i was also very, very curious as to how this instructor was going to meet the needs of the multi lingual racially intersectional lgbt sprinkled  - 40 year age spread with some of us having benefit$ - some clearly having le$$ and could you please speak up?  continuum  - that made up the whopping 20 of us in the room. And the 20 thousand of us around the province…and beyond..

Cancer - unlike healthcare - is very inclusive. 

Essentially what you learn is that it can kill you. That getting an infection of ANY kind can kill you. That you will feel wretched. That you will likely wretch. That your hair will fall out. That your white blood cells will die along with everything else. That it hurts. Burns. And some of us will have a port put surgically in out chest - like a gas can direct to your artery, some will have a pic line hanging out of theirs arm, and some will take it right in the vein.

Right in the vein.

HA HAhahahahah.. that rhymes with pain  hahahhahha and inane and Insane - annnnnnddddd how did i get in the hallway?

" Yes, I'm fine" i said to the nice nurse teacher lady who was holding my arm and walking with me towards the chemo room for the tour.

"Right this way everyone!" Sang the sweetest, cheeriest, most positive death deliverer ever. Who despite my best efforts to break free from - was not going to let me go - anywhere but forward.

SO  - i can assure you i was schooled by that educator - her - patience - focus - positive vibe - knowledge - caring - understanding - ( have you noted the majority of care givers i have mentioned thus far are women?) and she added personal attention to the fact that i was going to get the kitchen sink of chemo and most of the others were going to have just the taps.  ( not the Cruise private military school ( although as my mentor Bill Batten ( amazing artist  - google him ) says cancer is war ) version where every one gets killed - ok just some... most of them….. us ..) 

​And thus with  the help of Liza and nurse CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN! I got as far as the waiting - we are all now waiting - waiting to live - waiting to die - waiting for a resolution that will never come - ( sometimes i love ptsd - hello titanic) 

​room….

​i tried to go into the room… just like i tried in 1987 when my Mom… was there - but not here- it is a different place a different time and space and yet the time and space between the pain and the fear and my fear is that we will be in the someplace…. the same place --- i too will wear her face...

And i am  way too scared right now to face this.

ENTER MY FATHER. MWO BILL DEAR.

"mouse - turn around - go home - i have a pencil (s) for you."

Like i said. 

Sometimes i love PTSD.
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