Chemo Club

I went with a friend for her very first chemo treatment today. I felt like a senior in college showing a freshman around the campus. She was nervous and uncertain; I was upbeat and confident. It seemed like a long time ago that I was in her position.

I don’t recall being worried about whether chemo was the right treatment for me or feeling anxious and fearful of the side effects. I went into it thinking chemo was a given in my case and I didn’t think about the side effects enough to get my fears stoked up about them. I think I was happy to have chemo because I was pretty convinced it was going to help save my life. The initial period after diagnosis was so fraught with uncertainties with bad news after bad news, that by the time the chemo verdict came down, I was relieved. “Mastectomy, chemo, radiation, then I’ll live? Hooray!”

In my friend’s case, she thought she might not have to have chemo, so her expectations were a bit different. It’s all relative. I went from the spectre of fairly certain death to chemo, surgery, radiation, LIFE! It’s all a matter of expectations.

There were two other women at the chemo clinic I knew as well. And I met another woman who was there getting her last treatment. So there were five of us happily chattering away and comparing experiences. All very positive, cheerful, friendly. Cancer seems to make people friendly. I’ve never met a cranky, nasty, mean-spirited cancer patient. Maybe because those are the ones that die.