But, unfortunately, that's not how it worked. She walked herself in at the appointed time and presented her arm for her dose of toxins. The experience, near as I can tell, did not improve with repetition.
The part that WAS better was that they were out of chairs; it was a busy afternoon at the chemo factory. They ended up putting her into an actual room; the one generally reserved for really sick people. It was quiet. She could lie there and meditate. She'd taken her anti-anxiety meds before she went in, so was able to not worry about it all; she could accept it and let it go. (isn't modern chemistry great?)
The experience of these last few days has been much like the last round three weeks ago. She turns green-ish on a regular basis. Drugs, yoga, sleep - all these help. People bring food - that helps a lot. Having Alexandra here to laugh and cry and just be her almost-four-years-old self - that brings the long-term into perspective, and Kate remembers just why she's subjecting herself to this ordeal.
I think in some ways this third round will be the hardest one. Like your junior year in school or the 3/4 turn on the mile track, you're past the halfway point, but the finish line is not yet in sight. You're bruised and battered, yet need to somehow marshal energy to finish the race.
She's going to make it through. She had a fever the first day, but managed to fight it off before it got dangerously high. She aches; her sense of taste is gone again - the treatment has started to settle into a familiar rhythm; she has some idea of what to expect.
Yesterday, today, tomorrow - these will be the hard days. Then she has two weeks to gather her strength for the final round.
Prayers accepted and welcomed...
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