The chemo yesterday seems to have gone very well. My blood counts were all looking great, which explains why I’ve been feeling so good. My, there were other folks in there who were not in as good a place, believe me.
All reporters are notorious eavesdroppers, and of course, we are all sitting there in one big sunny room in our Barcaloungers with our IV drips. It’s hard not to get into other peoples’ business.
One woman sitting near me was looking excellent, dressed like a Washington lobbyist, hair perfect. She was on the phone, lying through her teeth to her boss. She was “working from home.” She said she didn’t dare tell him what she was really up do, because it would be perceived as weakness and she would lose her good clients. My goodness. What a millstone to have around your neck at such a time.
I turned out to have a pretty nasty allergic reaction to my Taxotere again, so they had to slow my IV drip way down. In the end, I was one of two dawdlers left in the room at 5pm. I had hoped to be out of there by 3pm. The other woman and I had a race to see who could down their last IV bag first. I won! The prize was a drink. But I’m not allowed to drink on chemo day, so supposedly my nurse got to have a snort after I left. I hope so. She’d earned it! But then, so had me and my new friend…
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