The New Year was here, my fungal infection was officially gone, and I was on the fourth treatment of six. Things were going great, as long as I kept myself preoccupied as much as possible.
TV did the trick for some of the day, as the usual Price is Right, Friends, Wheel/Jeopardy schedule couldn’t be broken, but I had to find creative ways to fill the rest– Aw, who am I kidding?! I had a freaking Gamecube now!
It’s amazing the patterns that the universe can provide if someone’s looking. Some call it Apophenia, others call it synchronicity, but nonetheless if you’re in tune to the branches of the world around you then one can often find similarities.
Especially when you’re stuck in a hospital room every day.
My “insight” into the connective tissue of the universe came in two-fold. First, I was more aware of people who had fought cancer locally and in the public eye.
The nurse pulled the needle out of my scarred mound of skin. Even the smallest of gauges stung when piercing the tough flesh adorning the Port-A-Cath. Needles never hurt me before, so I had no reason to fear them… That is until they punctured scar tissue, daily.
But today’s point was different. Today, the needle was being removed because I was finally going home. It was rather difficult to keep that secret from my Father and Brother the previous weekend. You would think I’d want to tell them of my escape, but it’s much more amusing to surprise them when they least expected it, in person no less.
Eventually everyone had to get back to his or her job (or in my brother’s case: high school), and the fervor died down. It was back to my Mom and Stepdad for the most part, as it was the majority of the weekdays. At any rate, it was amazing to consistently have family there when able, for their company made the harder days just that much easier.
A few days into my chemo, I had expected my hair to hop off of my head like rats off of a sinking ship, but surprisingly these follicles were holding strong. Every morning I’d take a shower, and every morning there was maybe a few, but nothing more than a normal Monday. Will I even lose my hair? Maybe I have some rare resistance to the popular side effect– a key within my DNA! Perhaps not.
Saturday approached faster than I had expected. The future always seems so far away until it sticks you right in your android chest receptacle, er– Port-a-cath.
They had to hydrate my blood first, so I had been on a steady drip of saline for the past few days. It is true what they say: when they first push the saline through it goes right to your taste buds. It’s disgusting, like gargling seawater laced with a medical “after smell.” At least it was for me.
At that moment I was reminded that I had never been hospitalized before; no pneumonia, bad fever, or any broken legs for that matter–
Well, I did break my wrist once in third grade, but I wasn’t hospitalized. It was a stupid mistake…