So Many Appointments (Again)

I am in appointment season; ending one treatment phase (chemo), entering the next (surgery), and planning for the last (radiation).
Since my final chemo on March 8th, I have had one follow up with the Nurse Practitioner (just a check-in to see how I was doing).
John and I met with the breast surgeon on Friday for my pre-op appointment, which included another ultrasound of the right breast, where the tumor was, and of the lymph nodes under that arm (which now show no cancer activity as well!). Dr. V. says that he expects that my post-surgery pathology report (this will provide the most accurate information about my cancer status since my biopsies and scans last fall) to show either near-complete (98-99%) or complete (100%) pathological response. YAAAAAASSSSSSSS
Additionally, he stated that this means that my prognosis is at 90% of never having a recurrence. This, my friends, is the gold here, and I will admit to feeling skeptical, a little afraid to believe that could be true for someone with TNBC. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely happy to hear this, but I am also going to ask my medical oncologist for her opinion. One thing I have come to learn is that different doctors have different takes on how they discuss cancer, for example if they use the word, "cure," or whatever. I tend to view my medical oncologist as more of a "cautiously optimistic" type, and my breast surgeon is definitely more... emotive.
Dr. V. also discussed his thoughts on how many lymph nodes he will take (something he won't know for sure until we are in surgery). He wants to be sure to take what is needed, but not to take too much. He thinks maybe 3-4, but to be certain he will first inject me with dye and radiation (sentinel lymph node biopsy) that will highlight any active cancer. I am hoping for this low number, because the more you take out, the higher the likely is for developing lymphedema (swelling and/or cording in the arms where lymph nodes were removed). I do not want lymphedema. The nurse navigator, M., also met with us to book my first physical therapy appointment and EKG that will need to happen prior to surgery.
In the meantime, Dr. V. wants me to practice calming exercises such as meditation, breathing exercises, and chest-openers to help with my posture.

Next we attended a breast surgery pre-op class, where John was congratulated for attending and for taking notes (he should get tons of credit for being a great partner! And this also weirds him out a little). We learned about:
Pre-Surgery Prep

• Move oft-used items on high shelves to low shelves (I will have limited range of motion for a bit, aka T-Rex arms);
• House cleaning;
• Meal prep ("This is not the time to say no to people who offer to bring you meals");
• Remove tripping hazards;
• Stock up on additional pillows for propping up in bed (I will need to sleep only on my back for a bit);
• Purchase mastectomy bras (I didn't know what these were, either. Basically a super-soft front-zip sports bra with lots of ways to adjust to accommodate swelling and bandages-- OR you can go the high fashion route with AnaOno or Stella McCartney);
• Dr. V. suggested that since I am going to attempt to avoid opioids for pain management, I should take cold showers for the 5 days leading up to surgery (ugh).

What Happens in Surgery

• The breast surgeon will perform surgery first, and then the plastic surgeon will take over for reconstruction;
• Will last 3-4 hours (and I will have to stay overnight one night);
• The goal is to remove all of the identifiable breast tissue; 
• I am having what is termed a "total or simple" mastectomy; 
• Not sure yet if I will have direct-to-implant or expanders (will know more at plastic surgeon pre-op appointment on 3/29). 

Post-Surgery

• Bland foods are ideal for the first few days (le sigh);
• Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!;
• I will have at least 2 drain bulbs (look like clear plastic grenade attached to tubing that will be the means for draining extra fluid from the mastectomy site and yes this sounds gross but we deal, do we not?!), and they gave me a drain belt, which is a definite fashion statement;
• Must empty drains and record amounts;
• No heavy lifting for 4-6 weeks;
• Must do daily PT exercises; 
• Take it easy but stay active; 
• Complementary pain management (distraction, relaxation, progressive muscle relaxation);
• Drains removed when fluid output becomes consistently minimal;
• We should receive the pathology results within a week;
• Follow up with breast surgeon at 6 months.

After Treatment

• Reducing risk of recurrence:
• Maintain healthy weight (includes limiting animal-based products);
• Limit alcohol intake; 
• Adopt a physically active lifestyle;
• Smoking cessation.  

NEXT UP:

• Radiation oncologist consult;
• Medical oncologist post-chemo/pre-surgery check-in; 
• Plastic surgery pre-op;
• 30-Day post-chemo labs and appointment with Nurse Practitioner; 
• Pre-surgery phone call with a nurse; 
• Physical Therapy initial appointment;
• EKG. 

My mom will be coming out for the surgery and to help me out for a few days afterward. Thanks, Mom! 

So now you know what I am up to (aside from list-making). Very lucky to have contract/work-from-home flexibility during this time, and for the flexibility John has had with his schedule so he can attend some of these appointments with me. It is true that having someone with you to help absorb all of the information is a wise and good thing. 

Happy New Year & Other Musings

Happy New Year!
I have not been one for keeping you up to date, I know. Holidays and general laziness. Also, despite being from the North, I just really do not enjoy being cold and thus end up bundled up under blankets with a book and a cat as often as possible. As such, I am quite happy that the next five whole days will be noticeably warmer, and Toby the dog will love me once again as we resume our walks in the woods. Also, if I have not told you yet, or you do not follow me on Instagram, there are gorgeous deer in the nearby woods. I love them. One of them is piebald, which means mostly-white but not albino (not the technical definition, but you can look it up). Very rare! and I consider a positive sign for me. Also, we have come to call her my patronus. Which in my head sounds like the song "My Sharona." Are you with me? lulz

Public Service Announcements
It seems that the flu is really terrible and an epidemic this year so please stay home if you are sick. THANKS
Also if you did not get a flu shot, please do so.
THANKS

What's New
I did finish my first phase of chemo-- all 12 TC or Taxol/Carboplatins are complete. That was a lot of chemo, my friends. Yuck.
I also began Phase 2, which is known as AC or Adriamycin/Cytoxan (sounds delicious!). I will have just 4 total of these infusions, every 3 weeks, so cross your fingers that March 2 is the end of chemo for me. Prior to starting the AC, which I did the week after finishing TC, with no breaks, I had to have another Echocardiogram and ECG. Adriamycin is apparently not always great for heart health so they monitor it pretty closely. Additionally, since I only go every 3 weeks, each time is a potential Pembro infusion. John is convinced that I am getting it, and I am not sure, except for a slight rash on my cheeks (attractive, yeah?) I have gotten the last two times of potential Pembro. All I know is that saline solution does not give me a rash. Chemo is definitely testing my beauty limits, and I praise the Sephora goddesses (monetarily).

Chemo Buddy Features! 
In December, my chemo buddies were: Christine (who I unfortunately never did get to see, due to my low neutrophil count-- and I so appreciate her taking the time off work for me! I was sad to not have chemo that day-- because what is worse than chemo? Not having chemo... and not getting to hang out with your chemo buddy), Megan (featured here), Jessie, Barb, and John.
Jessie also brought me a gorgeous quilt that she MADE HERSELF. As I get older, I realize that more and more of my friends have creative talents, and it shocks me every time. How amazing! How did you even make time for that?!
I have known Jessie since 2004, when we met in Vegas on a post-election sad sack trip with a bunch of Dean friends (although she worked for Edwards... blame Courtney 😉).

Jessie is the best. 

My MIL, Barb, who is amazing, was in town for Christmas, and got to be my final chemo buddy! (John will be chemo buddy for the remaining infusions.) Barb is wonderful, and I am very lucky to have married into this family. 

Best MIL ever. 💗

The loml, at my first AC infusion. 

Gratitude

I also want to thank all of you for every single one of your well-wishes: your cards, care packages, tea, gift cards, a free week of food delivery service!, blankets, books, text/social media messages, phone calls, chemo buddies!, in-person visits (Becky! Kate! Matt!), FaceTime chats, flowers, and the *many* other incredible and thoughtful gifts and your different ways of being there for me during this suboptimal period. You get me through the tough parts, which mostly are just feeling as though this will never end... chemo is drudgery, and it can be discouraging on the vanity front... and I can do anything for another month and a half-- so wish me well with tomorrow's labs (let's go neuts!). 

Chemo is Boring but We Know How to Bring the Party

Hello, friends.
First things first: I did resume chemo last week, after my neutrophils bounced back above 1.0; they were 1.03, which means that while I was successful, I also had to begin the booster shot Neupogen (or Zarxio, for those who like knowing specific brands of cancer-related drugs). This is a "growth factor," which I guess describes the fact that it stimulates the growth of neutrophils, which are found in the bone marrow, which is why one of the most common side effects of using it is bone aches or pain (I have also learned from experience that the muscles get achy as well). While this does not sound fun, it's really just a dull ache akin to growing pains. But minus the growth, although I would not be upset if that happened... I have always hoped to push beyond 5'3." Alas.
I will now receive the booster shot for two days (it could be up to four days, depending on how low the neuts dip) post-chemo infusion, so last weekend I had to go in mid-morning both Saturday and Sunday. Once my insurance okays it, I will be able to self-administer these shots (exciting, right?!) at home, which will save an hour each day in travel, as long as I am willing to stab myself. I can do this, dear reader. I will breathe through it (also, thank you Riely for coaching me via text on this!).

Colds and Such
When I was in elementary school, my mom was taking college courses. One day she brought home an illustration from a biology class that showed the immense amount of germs released per sneeze, and how many germs were on things like doorknobs. I will say that this has really stuck with me, and I am somewhat of a germ-phobe. Imagine that, plus going through chemo and having a challenged immune system... What I am trying to tell you is that I am a lot of fun! I walk around with disinfectant wipes (lemon is a great smell, don't you agree) and anti-bacterial everything. I have even self-quarantined over coughs and sneezes. Thankfully, those enduring living with me respond kindly by getting set up with amoxicillin. Also thankfully, I am getting Zarxio and have a better shot (pun intended) at fending off these germs.

Holiday Prep
This week, in preparation for the thanksgiving holiday, I had my labs today (the booster worked!), and chemo tomorrow with Lisa returning as my chemo buddy. Next week, labs will be moved to Tuesday, and chemo to Wednesday, with-- wait for it-- my mom AND my dad as chemo buddies! This is the part where you fall out of your chair because my parents have been divorced since I was two years old. How freaking amazing is that?! They are traveling here to be with me for the holiday. It is incredible, super sweet, and I will be honest when I say I was a little surprised (they were considering just surprising me by having my dad arrive without prior knowledge... thank you for rethinking that!). It isn't that they do not get along-- thankfully, they do-- it's just really touching. I am really looking forward to showing my dad around-- he has never been to DC!
Also, so much gratitude and love to Kelley and David for opening their home to my family for the holiday. You are incredible people.

Chemo Buddy Feature: Josh
Last week's chemo buddy was my friend Josh. I frequently call him Joshy, or pumpkin, but I have known him for more than a decade, so I get to do that. Joshy and I met when we moved into a group house on Euclid St. NW in 2006; I remember when he first walked up to the house and shooed the birds away, emphatically stating, "I hate birds. Ugh." Even though I do not hate birds, I do love when people have strong feelings about everyday things. It was the start of a beautiful friendship, even though the whole group-house thing really imploded.
Josh signed up as chemo buddy and immediately purchased these amazing pink wigs for the occasion. I will be frank, chemo is boring (this whole chemo regimen is pure tedium), but this was super fun, especially when paired with dance party music. Love you, pumpkin!

Don't worry, the pink wig will most certainly make another appearance!

No Camp Chemo Today

I want to start by reassuring you, lest you feel disappointed for/with me, that this is all part of the treatment process. To have a delay in chemo is okay and often expected. For those who enjoy the specifics, my neutrophil level was .800 (must be 1.00 to proceed with chemo. Last week was 1.20).
I have been referencing my neutrophils for weeks, so you may already know that I would necessarily need to hold off on a week of chemo once they fell. This is the week that has happened, and while no doctor or medical professional has outright told me how amazing I am for having held off nearly six weeks without this happening, dear reader, I read between the lines (heh) and assume that is why-- I am amazing. It has been a great sign that I came into this experience with a healthy amount of white blood cell levels that withstood chemotherapy (and again, this is expected to happen no matter what) for quite awhile. I am a healthy sick person!
I have also mentioned that I was told that when this happens, it is time for the booster shot, so I was surprised yesterday when I got the call from Oncologist F.'s office to say that she would like to wait a week, do my labs, and see if I have rebounded. I suspect that they think a week off for me will indeed cause the neuts to bounce back. If not, I was told they may hold off again another week, rather than introducing the booster shot. Or, they might choose to proceed with chemo, but at a lower dosage. It depends on what Onc F. thinks is best at the time, and I have an office visit with her already on my schedule for next Thursday. For what it's worth, I stated that I would "not be keen" on delaying my treatment TWO weeks. The kind nurse on the line said something to the effect of: we aren't either, but we are also not keen on pumping you full of unnecessary drugs. FAIR.
So today I have the day off. How will I enjoy it?

I will drink all the coffee. (Actually just this one cup.)

I will enjoy this amazing cup of coffee. While I am not prohibited entirely from drinking delicious coffee (if you know me you know I love coffee, and I especially love a really good latte, particularly those you might find at Dogwood or Rustica in Minnesota), I am not supposed to drink it 48 hours before an infusion, the day of an infusion, and for 48 hours afterwards, which when you are receiving weekly infusions is pretty much the whole week. Also it dehydrates, and I have a pretty strong need to do the opposite at all times. 

Chemo Buddy Feature: Megan P.

This weekend my good friend Megan P. is here from Minnesota to be my Chemo Buddy, so I do feel some disappointment that she will miss the experience of sitting next to me during an infusion (aka my weekly Benadryl high-and-then-slump) and being bloated from the steroids and chemo. I am sure we will find plenty of other things to do, and that we will certainly get our fair share of cancer talk in; I am mostly excited to have her see where we are living, and to just catch up generally. The fact that we have massages scheduled for tomorrow is pretty fabulous as well. 

Megan and I have been friends since our undergraduate days at the University of Minnesota, Morris, which if you are not aware is aka the Harvard of the midwest, the "smart" school of the four U of MNs, etc. (you can punch me in the face later). It is a small public liberal art school in the middle of corn fields where you can oft find budding liberal activists. Megan is and always was a leader, and I got to know her from the Women's Resource Center (the women's activist group on campus). After college, we worked together for a while at an abortion clinic as peer educators, we worked on campaigns, and there were years where I was a de facto third roommate/couch crasher at Al's and her apartment in St. Paul. I repaid some of that debt by putting her up in D.C. when I lived here the first time. Together we have enjoyed countless dinners, wine, the Klituation dance party, and the highs and lows of our love lives and careers (we were together on election night 2004 AND 2016...). She is now the executive director of an amazing nonprofit called Gender Justice, and I need to get dressed now so I can pick her up from the Metro station. 💕

Update: Here she is, and we took a really nice fall walk today!

Camp Chemo Update #5: This is Starting to Feel Redundant

Yesterday's chemo infusion happened! This sentence is indeed worthy of that exclamation point, since I was certain that my neutrophils had dropped below 1.5. Actually, they did-- so I was surprised when Researcher S. told me that I "squeaked by this week," and that my count was at 1.2... so there seems to be some leeway, apparently. What that means for me now is that I am in the "risk of infection" zone, and that I must stay away from germy places and people (Researcher S. always mentions germy children in this warning), at least until Thursday when I have my next labs and we see if the neuts (as Cousin Kate calls them) have indeed fallen to the level of needing the booster shot. Again, that will mean delaying chemotherapy one week as I begin taking the shot that will assist the neuts.
So chemo was fine, although the Taxol again irritated the fibroid, which is highly uncomfortable in the way of cramping and was tamed as cramps often are, with an Advil procured by Nurse S., who also instructed my Chemo Buddy Kelley to distract me by chatting. This team effort was successful and much appreciated. In terms of side effects, so far so good; not feeling nauseous at all today, which is a huge relief from last weekend. I did not go on a hike (or bike) today, as John is in Minnesota getting our winter belongings from storage, but I did take the dog on a longer walk. Even my fatigue seems lower today as compared to last week (yay).

Chemo Buddy Feature: SIL Kelley!
This week's Chemo Buddy was Kelley, my wonderful sister-in-law. Kelley is a force; a ginger, a high achiever, successful career lady budget analyst number cruncher, lover of spreadsheets, runner, super baker and cook, quilter, sewer, highly fashionable, mom to my nephew M., and incredibly kind and generous host to John and me as we unexpectedly stay with her (plus D. and M.) far past our original timeline so that we have extra support during my treatment. She also is very good at raising two of the sweetest cats that I have ever encountered, Pepin and Jax.

Here we are at Camp Chemo! She has great bangs.

Pepin (orange tabby) & Jax (gray tabby)

I am the Neutrophil Queen (& WTH is Immunotherapy Anyway)

This week's labs (CBC, or complete Blood Count) report came back from this morning's blood draw, and my neutrophil count actually increased! I am up to a 1.89 from a 1.68. This is surprising because the chemo drugs that I am taking (Taxol and Carbo) are supposed to guarantee a drop in neutrophils (which are a type-- one of four-- of white blood cell, and help prevent infection. Infection is not a good thing for me.). Since the chemo wipes cells out indiscriminately, bad or good, because it cannot differentiate between them, it is expected that they will inevitably drop. [I am not a medical professional and so I know I am likely missing important details but hopefully am catching the gist... please bear with me if you are more knowledgable than I am.]

Since my counts are still above 1.5, chemo tomorrow is a go. If they had dropped, I would have had my chemo pushed back a week and would have instead started a neutrophil booster. If you read my earlier post about this, a possible side effect from the booster is bone pain (or ache). Luckily, since I do not have to have the booster this week, that means one less booster overall during the course of my treatment. It is, however, inevitable that I will have the neutrophil booster. It's okay. It's going to be all right.

Since I am going to have chemo tomorrow, and it will be the third week, that means I will also receive immunotherapy (pembro or Keytruda) or the saline solution placebo, as part of the clinical therapy trial I am participating in. Here is a review of immunotherapy and my trial:
It is a 2 to 1 chance that I am receiving immunotherapy. My trial is in Phase 3, which means it has had positive results in its first two phases. My non-medical explanation of immunotherapy is as follows: immunotherapy is some of the most groundbreaking research in cancer treatment in recent history, and is blowing researchers and the medical community away with its results. It works with the body's immune system to identify, target, and kill cancer cells. My immunotherapy is the type that works with the immune checkpoint inhibitors, and has already been approved for other cancers such as melanoma (and a few others). Former President Jimmy Carter reportedly was treated by the immunotherapy that I might be receiving. The really kickass thing for me is that while Triple Negative Breast Cancer makes it so that there are some types of treatments (namely, hormonal) that do not work for me, immunotherapy puts a big one back on the table.

Here is more about immunotherapy if you are interested.

Camp Chemo Update #2: Cousin Kate is here!

The second day of chemo infusion (2 of 16) is in the books! Thank you to all of the wonderful and amazing friends who have reached out to see how it went and sent well-wishes via card, text, Snapchat, FB, email, and incredible gifts (scroll to bottom to see my new turtle chum from my friend M.).

My Day-to-Day
I have been enjoying the ease of these first two infusions as much as possible with bike rides, yoga, frequent walks with Toby the dog, daily dance party (this is the best and recommend everyone incorporate this into your morning life routine), plus just being awake and not needing to take naps. Don't worry,  I am getting the appropriate amount of rest and Netflix-watching in, I promise. Now that I have a treatment schedule, I am still trying to figure out what my day-to-day looks like.
As mentioned in my first post, I am in the middle of a job search, but have changed direction a bit to focus on more project/contract jobs. After December, it changes to once every three weeks, and I'll stop turning down amazing interview opportunities (this is a very frustrating aspect to all of this for me). Anyway, my point is that I am now shaping what my day-to-day looks like. I will likely write more about this in a future post.

Chemo Buddy Feature: Cousin Kate!
My cousin Kate arrived Thursday night from Ohio to join me for chemo as my Chemo Buddy, and for the beautiful Fall weekend. She brought me a batch of delicious vegetable soup for the freezer! Food is love, my dear reader. We both decided that I have joined the Welte Women ranks with my short brown hair (hi, Letha and Beth!). Kate and I have a history of fun adventures, such as hiking/scrambling up rock walls outside of Squamish, British Columbia (see my FB cover photo); driving across the country for big moves, such as when she left Washington state for Louisiana last year; and plenty of camping in various state and national parks around the country. Today our adventure is, of course, Camp Chemo.

Cousin Kate & me, glamming it up at Camp Chemo! 

Here is a comically bad pic of the two of us + her dog Reese, during her cross-country move of 2016.

Kate was able to hang with me while I got hooked up to the IV (ha!) via Power Port, got my "pre-meds" cocktail of Benadryl, steroids, and whatever, then an hour of Taxol and a half hour of Carbo and then out of there! It takes about 2.5-3 hours. The added benefit of joining me as a Chemo Buddy is witnessing how loopy I get from the Benadryl. (I also refer to my IV as my buddy, as she goes with me if I get up to walk around.) My eyes droop and eventually I rest them for a few minutes. Riveting, to be sure. 

Labs Report & Bone Pain

I also had a chat with Researcher S. about my labs report, which ultimately looks great. She let me know that she is most closely watching my hemoglobin levels (have dropped a little, but not alarming), platelets (have not dropped much at all), and neutrophils (with the chemo I am taking, it is a given that these will drop). 

Neutrophils help fight infection, so if you are low on them you are more at risk, which is not ideal for people on a chemo regiment. Here is more info about neutrophils if you are interested. I will be referencing them in the future, I am sure. My level is currently 1.68, and once it goes below 1.5 I will need to take a "booster" which is a really deceptive way of saying that I will have to take a regiment from now through the end of my phase I of chemo (through mid-December) of subcutaneous shots that I personally administer of something that may (likely) bring about a bit of bone pain. BONE PAIN. BONE. PAIN. So here is where we all say together, "Everyone responds differently, so let's just be cool and see how it goes." I'm cool. You cool?  

(Note: Nurse S. further explained that the 1.5 number is for the study requirement, but the "normal" number for concern isn't until a 1 is reached, so at least that's something in terms of fear of infection.) 

Healthy Food & Exercise

The rest of the day was about eating healthy food (just kidding, John came home and ordered pizza while he watched baseball playoffs... I am 80/20 on my food, meaning I am fine going off course some of the time. I had a half of cheese pizza. To be honest, it wasn't that great.). It's okay because I had a lunch of organic kale (I do love kale, sorry haters) and sweet potatoes with a TBT (tempeh-bacon and tomato) sandwich, courtesy of True Food Kitchen. 

Today, Kate and I are heading out to the woods for a hike. Exercise is important, and I love it, but let me tell you that once I get busy (pre-cancer life) with work, grad school, campaigns, etc., it is the very first thing I chuck. Well, no more of that sh#$, dear reader, because research says that regular exercise will reduce recurrence of breast cancer significantly (percentages vary). The research seems to point to better outcomes for those with hormone receptor-positive tumors, which I am not, but logic lends itself to the idea that it would still be incredibly beneficial to us TNBC-ers. 

From Cancer.gov:

Consistent evidence from epidemiologic studies links physical activity after diagnosis with better breast cancer outcomes (35, 36). For example, a large cohort study found that women who exercised moderately (the equivalent of walking 3 to 5 hours per week at an average pace) after a breast cancer diagnosis had approximately 40% to 50% lower risks of breast cancer recurrence, death from breast cancer, and death from any cause compared with more sedentary women (37). The potential physical activity benefit with regard to death from breast cancer was most apparent in women with hormone receptor–positive tumors (37).

Another prospective cohort study found that women who had breast cancer and who engaged in recreational physical activity roughly equivalent to walking at an average pace of 2 to 2.9 mph for 1 hour per week had a 35% to 49% lower risk of death from breast cancer compared with women who engaged in less physical activity (38).

So yeah, I am no longer sacrificing exercise. Get it! 

My new turtle buddy, from my friend M. He is nestled atop a beautiful and so-soft poncho that she also sent. Love you, M.! 

Selected quote:

"You asked for laughs... so I just called the form of breast cancer you have triple x instead of triple negative." -- J. 

The Awkward Newbie (My First Lab)

This morning I go in for labs, which is the blood work that needs to be done the morning prior to receiving each chemo infusion. These lab tests monitor my complete blood count (CBC); for white blood cells (WBC), red blood cells (RBC), and platelets; as well as my metabolic panel, which measures kidney and liver function and electrolyte levels.
I have had one lab experience so far, when I went in last week as a prerequisite to admission to the immunotherapy clinical trial. Allow me to regale you with my awkward newbie tale:

Arrive to Lab location with more than five minutes to spare (always a win to arrive early! Avoiding unnecessary anxiety is important.) Check in with very nice and upbeat front desk human, who clearly knows everyone as he greets several individual patients by name, and asks me if this is my first time being there. "Yes," I say, smiling. I sign in and pay my co-pay.
He directs me where to sign in and asks me to take a seat and wait for my name to be called. As a newbie, I head directly to a chair next to a boombox. I love music. How nice.
Very quickly I remember that boomboxes have terrible sound quality. I then realize that all of the other people waiting to be called for their labs have chosen chairs that are nowhere near this cacophony. I think, ah, yes, wise pros... I consider moving seats but decide to wait it out. I am sure I will be called soon.
Twenty minutes go by, people arrive, sign in, and are called. They depart. I continue to wait to hear my name. Employees walk by with their lunches that smell delicious.
Suddenly I realize this boombox has begun to blast Clapton's "Tears in Heaven." I freeze, wondering if I am hearing correctly. (Of course I am, because music.) I then look around wild-eyed to see if anyone else has noticed, but no one meets my gaze. I am awkward so I laugh a little to myself. Eric continues to sing, "Because I know, there'll be no more... tears in heaven."
Fight or flight starts to set in, and when the next person is called and vacates her seat at the end of the row, I bolt for it. It is the farthest away from the bleating boombox. I text John, "Poor soundtrack choices here."
"PATRICIA WELT." A woman, presumably a nurse, is in the entryway.
I say, "Wel-TEE." She says something that sounds closer to this and everyone in the waiting room stares as I bebop my way over to her. (Note: I do understand why my last name is mispronounced and I am not angry about it, but I will correct you if I know we are going to be interacting more than once.) We walk to her station, she asks me my name and birthdate, punches keys on her keyboard, furrows her brow. Since I know I am there to have blood removed from my body, I push up my sleeve and bare it towards her. She swabs it with alcohol, inserts needle, and busies herself with her computer. She makes some frustrated noises at it, so I break the silence (because she did not speak a word to me this entire time. Zero explanation of what she was doing, who she was, what I was expected to do. Nothing.) by asking if she is having computer problems. She nods in the affirmative, clearly exasperated.
My blood is filling up a vial. I look down to my immediate right and see a large biohazard bin of used needles and other gross items. I wonder if that is all from today? I consider asking her, but then decide that I really do not want to know the answer.
The vial is full. She removes it and tells me to hold the gauze on the location tightly as she applies labels. Next she hands me a container and stares at me. I stare back blankly. She says, "I'll need a urine sample. Do you know where the bathroom is?" I do not.
I say, "It's my first time here. I don't know where anything is." She tells me where to go, shouting behind me when I mistakenly turn right too early. I have to walk through the waiting room to reach the bathroom. Everyone stares again and I bebop past them. I smile. I do as I am told and return it to the nurse and take my seat next to her. She is frowning at the computer again. The nurse across from us also appears frustrated about her computer.
"Oh, so this is all computers that are giving you trouble today!" I attempt conversation once more.
"Yes," she says. "We are grieving. We need grief counseling!" She laughs. I awkwardly laugh back, perplexed. I cannot wait to get out of here.
Eventually I realize that she is staring at me. She asks if I know where I am supposed to go next (I do not). She directs me back to the very friendly front desk person who will help me out, and he does.

Suffice to say that right now I am pretty pumped to be heading out the door for today's labs. I am more seasoned now, my friends. I have headphones.

Addendum: Later that day I shared this story with my sister-in-law, K., who asked if they used the chemo port to draw the blood samples. I said, "No. And I didn't want that lady to take my chemo port-virginity, anyway!" Truth. I did not.

Update: Today's labs were much more efficient and I was greeted warmly by the nurse. The music, however, was Clapton again (thankfully could not hear which song since I was clear across the room). John has offered to make them a mixed tape.