A Month in the Hospital: Induction Chemotherapy

The first two days of my month Induction Chemotherapy long stay were a whirlwind of massive blood draws, lines being placed in my chest while I was sedated, a biopsy, in-depth cardiac tests, and cat scans. I felt as if I had no choice, and took no part in the decisions. It was all part of the strategy and treatment but I felt like I had no control.

I decided to say ‘Wait’, ‘Why’, ‘Explain’, ‘What other options are there?’ or even ‘Stop’. I tell you now that you need to do this  when it comes to your health care. YOU have to speak up for yourself. You have to ask questions. The medical team moves in a seemingly automated fashion sometimes. I am sure it is for your best interest, but we people are not a one size fit all, and may not always need to be medically treated in the same way. I will speak of this more as my postings continue.

The idea that I had spent a month in the hospital still baffles me. A month away from the every day life with my children, the laundry, the mundane household chores that I now hold so dear, sleeping in my bed, feeling ‘normal’. Think about it? Besides the fun of having someone else do these chores for you, would you really miss them if you were suddenly ill and unable to take part? I bet you would.

My husband pretty much wrangled it all: along with a neighbor, they got the kids to school, he got them to activities, did the laundry, grocery shopping, homework,  play dates, his full time job, etc. Luckily, a friend set up a meal train and for 6 weeks, which helped greatly. There were a number of days a week that my husband did not need to worry about making dinner. It arrived via sitting on the front porch or a ring of the doorbell. What a blessing.

In addition to all there was to manage at home with kids and the home, there were the hospital visits as I ached for my husband and my babies so I could hold them, and see them. They also brought me my requests for fresh clothing, etc..

My husband also brought home my dirty laundry home as I did not want to wear the hospital gowns. I set a goal each day to dress as I normally would since I had nothing else that was ‘normal’ in my life. I would do my makeup, set goals for the day (reading, scrap-booking, making calls). Some days the efforts were harder, but they were important to me.

To this day I say ‘I do not want to look like a patient. I do not want to feel like a patient.’ Some days are more successful than others.