When we started driving home after Round 1, we decided we needed a celebratory "chemo theme song" to play after each treatment. We both love 70's music, and she used to play it when I was a kid. We would dance around the house, singing loudly (and poorly). This song in particular was always one of our favorites, so we decided this song was the new chemo theme song.
And we sang it just as loudly, and just as poorly, as we navigated rush hour to get her home, with pump and Haz-Mat suit in tow.
My dad had gotten our favorite Chinese food because we were starving after being gone for almost 12 hours. We went over the instructions, as well as alllll the phone numbers.
Even though she didn't have an appetite and was feeling rather blah all around, she wasn't feeling nauseated, and that was a huge win.
The first order of business was swapping out the canvas fanny pack they had given her to tote around her pump for 2 days. Fortunately, my dad had a very nice selection of cool bags. We kind of looked at each other like, "Now what?" It was a very surreal feeling to look at her and know that poison was being infused through her body. What a shitty thing for any cancer patient to need to reconcile mentally.
I was about to head home for the night, but we needed to make sure the anti-nausea plan was secure.
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