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I really had no idea what to expect when I walked into the chemo suite with my friend Heather. I guess I expected to see sick people, hooked up to the chemo pumps and slumped over, heaving into buckets...sorta like this scene from a Monty Python movie. It wasn't like that at all!
We got the "grand tour" by the RN showing us 5 sectioned off areas. They all had recliners and hard backed chairs - three areas had tv's and two did not. She vehemently explained that recliners were NOT for patient visitors and also explained thoroughly which food & drink items were for PATIENTS ONLY and which were ok for everybody.
"So, they have a lot of problems with people runnin' off with the cracker tubs, do they?" Heather asked me.
"Must", I said "So, do they have...like...cracker police here? Like...if you took a pack of peanut butter crackers, lights & sirens would go off and stuff? And then you'd be banned from here for life? Or...what if I took a pack of crackers and then gave it to you? Could that be seen as true cracker pilferage?"
"Good question. I also wonder if the recliners can tell if other than patient butts sit in them and, if so, whether there is some sort of ejection mode installed?"
Needless to say, we were crackin' up from the get-go! Since we hadn't seen each other in a while, we opted to sit in a non-TV area so we could chat without disturbing any tv-watchers. Of course, once I realized Heather had brought a cribbage board, it was all over.
"Bring it on!", I smirked "I see ass-kickage in your future."
"Your ass with a Doc Martin enema!" Heather was very, very confident. And I, YaddaYadda, was going to make her understand that to play me was to fear me.
But first up, was the RN who was responsible for plugging me into my chemo pump. She was really nice, because she numbed me up before she started the torture. Shannon gave me a shot of lidocaine right under the skin and then shoved this through my skin and into my Power Port (I got the one with the right angle). I got a cute, tiny bag of anti-nausea medicine called Aloxi via the pump. Then she shoved a big, giant syringe full of Adriamycin directly into the port (this stuff later turned my urine orange. And no...it didn't glow in the dark, you pervs!) And theeeeen, once she was done with that syringe, Shannon hooked me up with a big bag of stuff called Cytoxan through the pump.
....2 hours later....
I lost my ass at my signature game...twice. "Heather, I am going to take this peg and shove it into your eye."
"You're welcome to try, Miss Bring-It-On"
Heather had humiliated me in front of complete strangers, AND my nice nurse. This...a game that I had grown up playing. "Ok. Next time we're using MY cribbage board."
"Yeah, like that's gonna help ya."
Fortunately for everyone involved, the pump started beeping. I was all done. Shannon freed me from the IV, slapped a cotton ball and some tape on my boo-boo and freed me from the chemo suite.
Clearly, I needed to be more brutal with Heather and simply peg on her missed points. I was too damned nice. I had two weeks to brood about my revenge. But, I had other things on my mind at the moment. I looked at Heather.
"Lunch?"
"Lunch."
