At last! Today I started chemo. One down, only seventeen more to go!
I slept well last night and awoke in my beautiful new bedroom, painted the colors of heaven. I said a prayer of gratitude for blessings – most especially my wonderful husband snoring gently by my side. For this home. My family and friends. My health. And our two black kitties, Petey and Brutus, who were starting their wrestling ritual to determine which will be alpha cat today.
I took a shower, put on make-up and and styled my hair – appreciating the fact that it has grown long and lovely over these last several months. (I had kept it short for most of my adult life – erroneously believing that short hair was easier to care for.)
Oh well, I reminded myself once more: “It’ll grow back.”
I put on a nice dress because I want to look and feel my best on this momentous day.
My best buddy, Kathleen, was driving here from Santa Barbara, planning to arrive here at about 8:30 to take me to Kaiser on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. They want to do blood draws at about 10am before the chemo appointment starts at 11.
But I got a call at 8am from the pharmacist – advising me that I needed to start taking some medicines right now! I urgently dispatched Scott to the local Kaiser pharmacy in Thousand Oaks, which opened at 8am according to the website. Turns out they didn’t open till 9am! I felt my anxiety and frustration rising, but took a deep breath and calmed myself. Whatever time I get there, is the time I get there. All treatment times can and will be adjusted.
Much of the last-minute rushing was due to the fact that I had agreed late last week to participate in a clinical trial for a new drug that will start at the same time as chemotherapy. So they were frantically squeezing in some tests and procedures to accommodate me so I wouldn’t have to delay the start of chemo. So this eleventh-hour confusion – while stressful – was evidence of the support of my medical team.
For you scientific types who are curious about such things: The trial will test the efficacy of a drug called Veliparib – a type of biological therapy – which stops a protein called PARP from working, particularly in cells that have the BRCA1 gene mutation (which I have). By inhibiting this protein, researchers hope that cancer cells will be unable to repair themselves and will die.
Traffic is fairly kind this morning, and we arrive at Kaiser at about 10:30. They take many vials of blood, after which we go for a bit of lunch, waiting for an all-clear while my blood is tested.
Then they start me on an IV drip line with the chemo drugs. Aside from the needle pricks, there is no pain or discomfort. Oh, except for the time when Kathleen is holding my left hand when the nurse inserts the needle in the vein in my right arm. The nurse says, “Make a fist,” and Kathleen squeezes my left hand – hard! “You’re hurting me, Kath!” I complain, as we break down in a fit of giggles. Gotta keep it light!
A short while later, my friend Lorraine shows up. She had chemo several years ago and made some significant investments in wiggery – which she generously loans to friends in need. It’s a challenge to get the wigs on over my hair – so nothing fits quite right. Lots of big hair! Lots more giggles!
We left Hollywood at 4pm – traffic wasn’t too bad coming home. We stopped at one of my favorite venues for dinner, the Stone Haus in Westlake Village – Provence comes to the Conejo Valley. I imbibed in a celebratory glass of prosecco and toasted this beautiful day – for my dear friend who supported me, for the staff at Kaiser (who were gifted with beautiful bangle bracelets from India which have fewer calories than See’s chocolate, though they reminded me that they love the chocolate!) and for my perfect and radiant health!
Salud! Sláinte! Skål! Santé! Cheers!
Diane Lenkin
August 25, 2016Dear Mare
Off and running on the road to recovery. You jumped over the hurdles too with beautiful grace and a winners attitude.
With Kathleen at your side for giggles and squeezes it’ll be a breezes. So many more of us cheering you on with love.
Not sure about the wig selection so far.
Ellen Borowka
August 25, 2016Dana and I are so glad it went well. We are thinking of you! Love the wigs – I’m so glad you have such good friends to support you during this process. <3 (that's a heart – in case it doesnt show up 🙂 )
Diane Bowen
August 25, 2016You go girl!!!
tina
August 25, 2016You are truly amazing… Keep up the good work and that awesome spirit love ya girly!
Julie Franz
August 26, 2016Except for that last minute scramble due to the clinical trial, it sounds like things went very smoothly and you, of course, managed to make it fun and do it in style! Hope the rest of your treatment goes just as well!
BTW Incould actually imagine you looking pretty much like yourself in the bottom middle wig.
Beth Oslander
August 26, 2016I like the wig 2nd to the right on bottom row the best! It suits you!!
Lorraine
August 26, 2016Oh the wig pics are so funny! I do like the red on you:). How do you feel today?
Tom
August 26, 2016Marilyn you are a shining example on how to keep a positive attitude while facing such a challenge. I pray for you every night and will continue to do so until you defeat this disease…..and you WILL !!!!
Rita Connor
August 26, 2016Marilyn-I’m so proud of you! What a journey! You are living this one with such courage and a spirit of adventure. I’m sending loving prayers your way today! You’re such a bright light in people’s lives. Tend your light like a precious globe. Make sure it keeps shining through supreme self-care! Love and hugs! Rita
Ron
August 26, 2016Go sis! …Love from Shikoku!
Tree
August 26, 2016Onward and upward, my Friend! Indeed, your blessings are many and will support you through this journey. And I know you didn’t ask, but I think the one next to your tongue pic looks beautiful on you. 😀
Nancy Goodell
August 27, 2016Oh my goodness! What fun you and Kathleen created! I look forward to your posts–so inspiring! I am sending you love and gratitude for you, my sunshine friend. Nancy
Sheila Rosenthal
August 30, 2016Marilyn, dear, I just received your beautiful, positive report on your first chemo treatment and I see a great future for you in writing! You’re really gifted, girl! You’re travelling through a new foreign territory now and describe it beautifully! I think of you so often!
Love and hugs,
Sheila