First, just allow me to say that the nurse that called out my weight when I was facing backwards, is so afraid of me. Even if I ask, “how many pounds did I lose this week?” he won’t budge. In fact, when he sees he has to weigh me, he always tries to find Martha, the other nurse.
K. So what did I just say about losing weight? Well, after I got over the spoken loudly (fine, spoken to me) number, I decided I would try to watch what I ate. Every time I would meet with my onc, she was worried that I was sick. Losing weight is a bad thing when you have cancer because it’s a sign of cancer.
In any case, each week she would say how great I looked and tell me the weight loss digits. Should inquiring minds know, I went from 158-132 (I can’t do the math so you can) from mid-June til Sept. 28th. Just bam, set my mind, gave up anything I enjoyed and voila! Now, occasionally I will have ice-cream or challah…
Moving on, I’m feel good bla bla bla and then I made the mistake to sober up and ask a question. *Questions are rarely good for me, my fragile state of mind and me.
Onc: So, today you will have your bone shot and this drug and that drug.
Me: I was thinking, about how long has your longest patient been on chemo?
Me: (Fuck she paused)
Onc: I had someone on it for four years.
Me: (Phewww) Oh that’s good. And why did she stop at four?
Me: (Dumb fuck! Next question!)
Onc: Well at some point it became too much for her body…
Me: (Rocking in my mind) What do you mean?
Onc: Well her lungs filled up with some stuff and…
Me: (Homey say what?!) Well then what did she go on next? Did you put her on a TKI?
Onc: (Pause. Pause)
Me: (Dumb founded)
Onc: (Tears in her eyes) You will beat the odds.
Bubbie: Rochelle, you wanted to make it to 50 and you will!! Just make another milestone.
And then I was sent back to be with my compadres who ….
- look like death simply because of their shoes/wheelchairs/sweaters/hair/aids
- Don’t have what I have and are well into their 80s.
Needless to say, I was finally able to muster up the energy to eye pull the young nurse, when I saw Judy was making a b-line for my port.