Wednesday, September 2, 2015

33 hours to go

When the nurse waltzed (literally) into where I was awaiting my first chemo, the terror dissipated.

I had comforted myself with the idea that it would take only 36 hours of actual chemo over the next four months.

The staff at HUG (the Geneva teaching hospital) was suburb both in medicine and emotional support.

Tea and biscuits made it almost seem tearoom like.

There was hitch. I have veins that run and hide.

It took three nurses five tries to get the needle in my elusive veins. The previous record was four, but I know they weren't going to beat it. It wasn't their fault and I think they were more upset than I was.

Finally with lots of liquid and an arm warmer it worked. It won't happen again. I'm slated for a different method of entry.

Finally it began. One of the bags was red and had the name with the word ruby in it. It is my birthstone. It also turned my pee a pretty shade of light red. I am part of a group on Facebook that photographs certain colors for a week. It wasn't ruby this week. Too bad. Red pee photos would probably be the most original.

During the time the nurse chatted with me, giving me enough info to open my own breast advisory clinic. What a wonderful support system Geneva has. Since one in eight women here face breast cancer, this is a good thing.

It was over. My nurse and I hugged at HUG.

Another step done.

(Photos of Rusty Bunny and Rick, there to support me.)

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