'Don't know how else to say it, don't want to see my parents go, One generation's length away, From fighting life out on my own'

I said that I would talk about Chemo. So I will. I don't want to - but Mum is due for her next course this Thursday, so I will. If you want to know how Mum found the treatment pop on over to I don't do Hats! for that side of things. This post will be about how I perceived the treatment to be.

It's quite a difficult concept to get your head around. To save someones life, you need to break them down before you can build them up. You literally need to take their immune system to the brink & then bring it back again. For some patients, Chemo takes them so close to death, they could probably see the gates of Heaven. Although I know it hardly ever feels heavenly. Luckily, my Mum isn't one of those patients, thanks to her vigilance, I wont have to see her go.



The whole process of Chemotherapy is strange. Actually, just going up to the Cancer & Blood centre leaves you feeling strange. We arrived at the hospital for Mums first treatment, and we sat in the waiting room. And boy did we wait. And then...we waited some more. The suspense was awful. I kept looking around the room & these are the three things that have stuck with me:





A. "It's not fair we shouldn't be here" - Anger







B. "That poor lady over there, she looks really sick" - Sadness







C. "Oh no - a child" - Guilt



After waiting what felt like an eternity, we finally saw the Dr. Well he was a qualified Dr. (just) but seeings as he looked like a less attractive version of Harry Potter, and he was wearing socks with a picture of a present and the words "Nice Package" on them - I was fairly reluctant to call him so. Anyway....we saw the Boy Doc, and then we were left alone in a room to do some more waiting. After another Fifteen minutes, we headed down the corridor, to where Mum would be receiving her treatment.



I hate that room. It is a sad, sad room. One big room, full of people on reclining chairs, looking out in to space, hooked up to bags of poison. My Marja was the most positive & optimistic person there - Go Mum!



Once all of the poison bags are good to go, you get to do something really fun. Guess what it is....Wait.



After five and a half hours at the hospital we finally got to take Mum home. The next few days were sucky. Mum was feeling sickly, then hot, then cold. She would be so hungry, so we would serve her up some food, then two minutes after she began eating, she would need to go to bed and sleep. She also found it very hard to sleep. I would get up in the night to go to the bathroom, and find her making fruit toast at 4.30am.





It's not easy. But it sure is worth it to get to keep my Mum. Although at times I do feel pangs of memory A. we are so lucky that we don't have to deal with B or C., and for that I am so very grateful.

I usually post a link, and although this "video" is lame, it has lyrics, and is the best clip that would allow me to embed. even if you don't like JM, take a listen. Beautiful concept.