Marilyn Claire Murphy

A couple of weeks ago I had begun to notice that I wasn’t scampering up the stairs anymore as I’d been doing with relative ease throughout my chemo regimen. Now I climbed slowly and was completely out of breath at the top.

“Damn,” I thought to myself, “is chemo catching up to me at last?” I’ve been so proud and pleased (and smug) that negative effects of chemo have not affected me. I can still claim the title of “Wonder Woman.” And I can answer “no” to the litany of ailments they ask every week:

“Are you nauseous?”

“Are you weak?”

“Are you in pain?”

“Are you experiencing neuropathy in your fingers or toes?”

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“Has your appetite changed?”

Now I was experiencing some weakness. I’d heard that the effects of chemo are cumulative. Maybe I wouldn’t be immune to its negative effects after all?

Sunday evening I began to feel poopy. On Monday morning I dragged myself into the office, as it was the first day in many weeks that my entire team would be together. I sat through a luncheon meeting, unable to eat more than a few bites of my salad. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. I went home straight after that meeting. I had a slight fever and felt generally icky. On Tuesday the fever was gone but I had body aches and canceled out of a day-long meeting with my women’s group. I sat in the sauna and envisioned sweating out all the toxins.

The next day I was feeling a bit better and had chemo as normal. My nurse, Sunny, told me that my hemoglobin (red blood cell) count was really low and that I needed a blood transfusion. Yikes! First, my white blood cells, now my red ones? It sounded ominous but she reassured me that it was to be expected.

“Can they do that in Woodland Hills?” I asked.

“No, the blood bank is here in Hollywood, so you’ll need to come back here.”

She made a phone call and secured an appointment for me at 10:30 on Thursday that someone had just canceled. Otherwise, I’d have to wait till after Thanksgiving for an opening. I would be getting two units. Each transfusion takes at least two hours. They needed to take more vials of blood.

No wonder my blood cells are low – they keep draining me!!!

I called a friend to schlep me back to Hollywood for this latest appointment. They called the courier to fetch blood from the blood bank. Two hours later, I had drained that bag and they fetched another unit. It wasn’t my favorite way to spend a Thursday, but I noticed that I wasn’t winded walking back into the house after Michael dropped me off. I also couldn’t keep warm and wondered if my donors had lived in tropical countries.

I also couldn’t keep warm. Perhaps my new blood came from a donor from a tropical country? No matter. Whoever you are, and wherever you came from – thanks for being my blood donor!