Committing to the Treatment Path

I spent today wound tighter than a fishing reel prepped by a crack addict. I just wanted the oncologist to call so we could talk about chemo and get it over with.

I hoped the doctor would say this is all a mistake and I actually didn't have cancer. Maybe it was a hairball.

Alas, no luck.

The oncologist had to talk quickly because clearly she was calling between appointments. She said that by doing chemo, we will hopefully reduce my risk to 10 or 12%. We're going to stick with the regimen that we talked about in our first appointment, which is four cycles of Taxotere and Cytoxan, administered three weeks apart. (Isn't Cytoxan an unnecessarily evocative name? I think so.)

I'll first need to meet with a nurse for my "chemo teaching" appointment where they'll tell me all about side effects and what I'm supposed to do if this or that happens. Then, on the day of the first infusion, I'll meet with my oncologist. After I see her, I'll go to the infusion center where they'll hook me up with an IV. I have heard that for Taxotere, the infusion takes several hours.

She gave me a choice of starting chemo either Friday the 2^nd or Friday the 9^th. I told her that I didn't want to do the 2^nd because have a family gathering on the 4^th that I don't want to miss. She said, "Okay, June 9^th."

I yelped, "Johnny Depp's birthday!"

She said, "I'm sorry, what?"

I mumbled something about Johnny Depp and then just blushed at my end of the phone, trapped in the ridiculousness of the moment. Ah, well, being one's authentic self can lead to these situations, and whaddya gonna do?

The doctor had to go, so this is all I know. I'm a little freaked out, thinking, "Gee, I just said, 'Please pour poison into my veins, thank you.'" What am I thinking?!?

It doesn't help that so many people are happy to tell me that this is the wrong decision. But, you know, deep down, I don't think it is. I'm no slave to modern medicine, yet I do think that in this case, I just need to get through this.

So, I've pulled up my calendar and counted the days. I should be losing my hair around the 23^rd, I think.

I decided to measure my hair to figure out how long it would take to grow it back. If you are reading this because you are about to start chemo, take my advice and don't do this. You don't need to think about how long it takes for your hair to grow back! In my case, with hair that's between 22 and 25 inches long, it is likely to take four years to re-grow. Omigod. That's four years from maybe September, if I'm lucky. Just my luck to be a long-haired girl.

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