Yesterday morning began with the last part of this medical process. 9 AM I went down to the chemo room and got hooked up with my infusion of rituximab. The purpose of this infusion is to eliminate any remaining mature lymphocytes, stragglers that escaped the chemotherapy barrage.
Because I was the only one of our group to have reached the appropriate neutrophil level the day before, I was the only one in the room. Luckily, over the next couple of hours all but one of the remaining patients had passed the line and found their place in their respective recliners.
To protect us from any adverse symptoms we are given a number of prophylactic medication one of which is hydrocortisone. Steroids have this beautiful initial effect of having one feel like you are on top of the world. I was the wittiest, smartest, funniest person in the room. The whole rest of the day and evening felt glorious. Good conversations, lovely cocktail hour, physically strong and comfortable.
And, I also know that steroids cause insomnia. I was a pretty much all night as I expected. The next morning I woke up at the usual time and it wasn’t until midday today that the beginning of the steroid crash happened.
I had an afternoon nap and then joined the rest of our cohort on the roof in the evening for a whole group photo.
Tomorrow is our last full day here. All of us plan to spend the morning with the last of our group to get the rituximab infusion so he doesn’t have to go through it alone. then we begin to pack up, write our thank you cards, and spend our last evening together saying our goodbyes.
We have gotten pretty bonded and I will miss every single one of the people here. So another good night and I imagine next time I post will be as we take off in the airplane heading back home. I can’t wait to see all the people I love and my home and the land and the air and my dog.
oh dear elisha,
I was splitting firewood this afternoon, and i had a sense of you…
knowing that you and your precious body are, in all kinds of ways, making preparations to begin your journey back home, to this hill.
I only have a view of the mountains in the winter, and this afternoon i happened to look through the leafless trees and saw straight through to the glorious and also subtle shades of amber and red and purple that were layered against the faint, snowy beauties that form part of what makes this land that you will soon return to, so breathtaking.
May your journey home be safe and flawless. May you feel the deep welcome of the beauty of this place that we call home.
So many, many blessings to you, to your whole gang of courageous folks, and to your dear mama.
We’re all looking forward to having you come home and begin this part of your journey! Safe travels and love to Sue.
It will be so good to have you home. Safe travels 😘