Cancer is, in its own way, funny. Today, we were entering Dr. Hema's offices to start the last day of round five of my six round fludarabine treatment. We encountered a very nice couple who we had seen Monday. He was in a recliner getting infused while his caring, concerned wife sat nearby.
As they were checking out and we were checking in, we exchanged the usual polite greetings. "Hello, how are you?" I asked him if that wasn't a loaded question, given where we were and what we were there for. He agreed and suggested we start over, but this time, being quite honest with each other. I asked, "How are you?" He said, "Lousy, actually. I have colon cancer, I'm undergoing chemo and it makes me sick. How are you?" I said, "Pretty darned bad. I have lymphoma, I'm undergoing chemo and it seems like there are treatments for the next thousand weeks."
He then said, "Well I hope you gain remission and never have to get another infusion and feel better." I said, "You mean, you hope to never see me again?" He smiled and said, "Exactly!" I said, "Well, my friend, I hope the same, that I never see you again."
They were a great couple and I wish them well.
Only in the infusion room is, "I hope I never see you again" a hopeful greeting.
I am glad to be 5/6ths of the way to the end of fludarabine treatments. I feel quite well and quite hopeful. My next milestone is blood testing on March 15. I have many marks on my forearm from having IVs inserted. In the illegal drug world, they are known as needle tracks. I have visions of the police noticing them and asking my drug of choice. I wonder if they would have to radio the station house to find out about fludarabine...and if they would be apologetic!
Thanks again, friends, for your well wishes.