Team DeAnne

Last time was Round 7 of chemo, and you’d think I’d be a pro by now.  All the aces are in their places.  I have a team of sweet-natured nurses who know I freak out whenever I see my own vital stats, so they distract me and discreetly turn the monitors around when I’m not looking.  (Thank you!)  Mom and Dad get nervous when they go to infusions with me, and so Jenny is my chemo buddy.  Mom drives me to the “pre-game show”, the day before with the oncologist, and btween getting my labwork done and meeting with the doctor, we have brunch in a swanky little cafe.  She also drives me to and from the hospital where I get my post-infusion shots, all three days, so I can snooze on the way home in the car and thus be ready to teach ’til the sun goes down.  Even the oncologist does his best to deal with my neuroses and phobias and inane questions.  I even have a few chemo chums, people who are on the same schedule, and we meet up with our IV poles, chatting exuberantly like old friends at a reunion.  At this point, I even know which of the phlebotomists to steer clear of, and which ones are sympathetic and gentle!

But on Round 7, my favorite nurse just wasn’t having her best day.  After poking me in the hand, to no avail, she looked  into my eyes with a big tear in hers.  “I’m going to get the other nurse to do this, OK?  I’m so sorry!”

I told her “We’re a team.  I think my veins are just tired.  Come on, let’s do this thing!”

She poked around some more, then got ready to try again on a different part of my wrist.  Again, it didn’t work. 

“Oh, DeAnne, it’s a good thing you’re mother’s not here!”

“Yeah,”, Jenny said.  “But we’d just send her out to walk around in the fresh air for a while.” (Mom doesn’t d needles.)

I got really nervous and distraught, then realized that:  Hey!  I’ve done much dumber things than getting an IV before, by choice!

“You know what?! ”  I asked the nurse.  “I think this hurts you more than me!  You should know, I’ve signed up and paid lots ofmoney to become a Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do.  By choice, as part of the “fun”, I used to break boards with my wimpy little hands!  You’re little needles will never hurt nearly as bad as some of the things I’ve done to myself, by choice!  Hahaha!  It doesn’t hurt, OK? We’re OK!”

After that, that IV was in place in all of about 3 seconds!  Jenny, the nurse, and I all had big, relieved smiles on our faces.  Yes, during the ordeal, I would have liked to yell at her, or even throw a fit…the kind which would embarass my mother to tears, and that Jenny would have to sit on me to subdue me.  But after dealing with cancer, I realize that there’s an easier, more graceful way to deal with situations.  I don’t always do it the easy, graceful way, but sometimes I make a concentrated effort.  Maybe that’s personal growth?!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 11th, 2010 at 9:15 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.