WOMEN'S HEALTH
MY CANCER STORY...Page 3
This page is dedicated to myself. For having the courage to remarry and face
my future whatever it brought. And for facing my illness with new inner strength.
And for having the trust to reach out to God, and let Him take me on this journey.
My second treatment was two weeks before my wedding day. Planned that way
so that I would be feeling well again, and be able to enjoy the festivities.
And I truelly had a wonderful day. It was a magical time of love, friends,
family, and new commitment. And, yes, I had a new head of hair to cover
my now completely bald head! Of my three wigs, we had all selected the
mid-length wavy brown one. And in my wedding gown and wig I arrived at the
quaint little church on that sunshine-filled afternoon...to await my
husband-to-be who would join me soon. I stood in the foyer with my sister
and my best friend, who would be the maid of honor. It was she, who intruduced
me to Larry, so my sister did not feel slighted at not being asked to fill
that position in my wedding-party.
The church was full of friends and relatives. And I began to feel elated.
Weddings are nice, I thought to myself, and this one is mine. I planned to
enjoy it fully. My father joined us, and we began to proceed down the isle,
as all present stood to face us. I felt their love, and took strength from
it. And when I saw my groom watching me approach, my heart warmed in affection.
In his eyes, I saw no fear, just certainty and love. And he came to recieve my
hand from my father, without any hesitation.
The ceremony was performed by a joyous man of God, who seemed to love what he was
doing. He celebrated our marriage vows with great elation, and made it a memorable
experience. As he invited us to be united, in the presence of God and all present
a feeling of warmth bathed me, and I felt as if I were "glowing." And when we had
made our vows, to spend the rest of our life together, and turned to face everyone
I was smiling from deep within myself. All stood and applauded us, as we were presented
as Mr. & Mrs. for the first time.
The reception that followed, was peaceful and quite personable. We had no need for loud
music or alcohol. We celebrated the love and friendship of those who had come to witness
our marriage. And when it was time to leave for our private honeymoon at Larry's home, we
bid my parents goodbye and thanked them for their hospitality and generousity. We did not
to go on a trip away from town, in case it would be too tiring for me. And what happened after
I was carried over the threashold as a new bride, is private within my heart for all time.
Treatment number three was coming due, and I was getting psyched up to go to the clinic
once more. This time with a new store-bought head of hair. This new "look" had been recieved
had never gotten that many compliments on my own hair. We all decided that, I would return
to my parents house after my chemotherapy, so that I wouldn't be left alone, across town.
My mother wanted to be with me afterward, so she could tend my needs. So, once again, I made
the trip to the nieghboring town, to vist the clinic, where my doctors were. The treatment
room was fairly empty that day...and I took my chair silently.
I was glad for the privacy. I didn't feel like a lot of small-talk that day, but the nurses
knew about my marriage and all asked if it went well. I promised to bring the photo's for them
to look at after they were developed, as I was again attached to the tubes. The nurses had a
hard time inserting my needle that day...and that is what took their focus...my veins weren't
co-operating they told me. And we had to finally settle for a site on the top of my right hand.
It had taken three nurses several attempts, but they finally succeeded. And a few minutes after
they left I grew very dizzy, and then there was a pressure in the veins of my forhead, and my
stomach began to get queezy. I grabbed for the wastebasket alongside my chair, awaiting the
inevitable, as I grew nauseous.
The nurse came to check on me, and saw my distress. She kindly drew the curtain closed around
my chair. I didn't know if it was to protect my dignity, or other's displeasure should they sit
nearby? I managed to fight the majority of the sickness off, until I left the building. But in
the car, on the way home, I lay across the back seat feeling pretty sicly. I was so glad my mom
had the foresight to send a roll of paper towels and a plastic bag along. I didn't see the traffic
passing by, my head was down in the bag, all the way. And for once, I was actually glad that my
dad is not a pokey driver, he knows how to cruise along.
Mom was waiting to greet her sick little puppy when I got home. We hurried to my bed, and she
tucked me in, along with the plastic bucket that I would learn to hug quite thankfully during the
next 4 days. This time I was really sick. Even a sip of water would not stay in my stomach. And
we thought maybe I had caught a flu bug, too, or something. We rationalized the reaction I was
having away in many ways. I was tired from the excitement of the wedding. Or, maybe it was one
of my migraine headaches coming on,too? But, truelly sick I was, and deeply sick I stayed for
almost a week straight. Mom kept encouraging me about being done with half of my treatments.
But when I could at last eat some boiled chiken and plain rice, and drink some water and tea,
I grew stronger again.
I returned home with Larry, and tried to forget the ordeal. But it began to haunt my mind.
I was losing confidence about my inner strength. The wave of illness that I had experienced was
like being run over by a truck. I managed to go about my wifely chores at an easy pace, and to
fix supper each night. Larry and I would do the dishes and both collapse onto the couch to pass
the few hours until bedtime. People were beginning to make appointments to view his house, on
those nights, we had to be gone and we would return gratefully afterward. My house was standing
vacant now,and so we would go there and look at the mountain of work that awaited us there,
before we could move in. My sister volunteered to help us paint the walls, and clean things up.
It seemed like there was always more work to do somewhere.
I was not sleeping well, when I did go to bed. And I was getting pretty worn out looking.
A week before my forth treatment, I started to get panicky. I really was reluctant to recieve
the drugs again. And began to talk about not going. Of course, my family would not hear of me
quitting. And, in my mind, I both knew I must continue and at the same time I knew how
apprehensive I was. It took a lot of courage to proceed from that time on. But I went off
once again to the clinic, this time with fear in my heart. Once again, the nurses had great
difficulty finding a vein into which they could put the IV needle. This time they used a site
just beside my wrist...and it was very painful. I chose a seat in a corner, at the back of the
room. I drew the curtain before I sat down, and checked for the wastebasket. As soon as the
nurses left, and the drugs began to flow into me, the waves of sickness came upon me. Stronger,
this time, and I began to wretch.
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