Imagery

Some of my very distintive traits are my overly sensitive sense of taste, smell, touch, hearing, and visual imagery.  As a musican and artist, these traits are very desirable and even mandatory to be sucessful.  As a chemo patient, these traits have at times made my life a nightmare.

It is very difficult to write this portion of my blog because in doing so, I will be bringing up imagery that will make me nauseated and disturbed.  With that being said, I think it is an important part of this journey to document.

I want to say first off, that I adore my oncologist.  She is a very intelligent and sensitive doctor.  She really cares about her patients and tries to make them as comfortable as possible during their treatments.  She has a beautiful and very large clinic with all kinds of amenities to help her patients feel at home.  The chemo treatment room, where I receive all of my chemo treatments, is very large with nice recliners and big open windows that overlook beautiful trees.  During the treatments, along with the very kind nurses, are volunteers that come around with crackers, cookies, and other treats for the patients so that they feel more comfortable.  The clinic also supply pillows and blankets for the chemo patients and live music (a harpist) to help calm everyone. Even with all of these amenities, as soon as I walk into the chemo room and then begin my chemo, I am assaulted with sounds, tastes, smells, and other things, that traumatize and nauseate me for days after. 

When I enter the room for my treatments, I hear the bells going off from the IV bags needing to be emptied.  One goes off, then another one echos in another part of the room..then another...During most of my treatments, I listen to my i-pod, or watch a movie so that I don't focus on the incessant ringing.  I still hear those sounds, but they are muted with the headphones.  When I think about those bell tones, my stomach gets sour.

The smells...oy the smells are probably the worst for me.  I have always had a sensitive nose and have joked that I could smell an ant farting in Africa.  Since chemo, that ant lives on Mars..The liquid anti-bacterial soap in the restroom is really strong and chemical smelling.  After I have used it, I smell it on my hands for days even though I continue to wash my hands obsessively.  I am not sure if it is just my imagination that I'm smelling that soap or if it's just hard to wash off the smell.  The next time I go in for treatment, I'm bringing my own hand soap.

My sense of taste has changed, but not as much as I thought it would as far as food goes.  The thing that has been difficult for me is the consumption of liquids.  Most fluids at one time or another taste like gasoline because anything I drink has a chemical aftertaste.  I alternate the type of fluids that I drink in hopes that I'll find something that doesn't make me queasy.  Sometimes I can drink plain water and sometimes I can't.  The peach/banana nectar that I have been adding to my water for the last week has suddenly given me the gasoline taste and heartburn, so I have to find another juice.  Lately, plain decaf tea with a little sugar has been ok.  As soon as the nurse puts the needle into my port and starts pumping saline into my iv, I start tasting chemicals.  (Having a bad taste from the initial saline is common.)

As far as visuals go, one of the medications I receive for chemo, called adraimyacin, is the color of big red..It's a light red/dark pink color.  I used to associate that color with strawberry soda and Hawaiian punch as a kid.  Now I associate it with chemo.  I can no longer drink or look at anyone drinking anything that color because I get very nauseated.  Ethan was having one of those drinks the other night at dinner and I had to leave the room until he finished it.  I ran out gagging.

Sometimes when I think about the needle that goes into my medi-port for chemo, I get queasy.  Although the port is very useful and keeps me from being stuck all of the time for blood counts, the initial stick is quite painful.  Sometimes when I move a certain way, my port is agitated and that makes me queasy because I associate it with the stick.

From the very beginning of this journey with cancer, I have been told that most of dealing with this is having a positive mindset.  At the time of initially being told this, I had my doubts.  I can now tell you without hesitation, that this fight is entirely about attitude and perspective.  Ironically, the hardest part of my treatments so far has been fighting the imagery from chemo and not the chemo itself.  I have also been told by many, "You should get into a cancer support group."  I know that because I am now so sensitive to my surroundings and suggestions about what others say, there is no way that I will do that.  Hearing about someone else's misery will only give me more negative imagery to focus on.  My empathy and sensitivity as a musician and teacher is a huge strength..in chemo it is an immense weakness. 

On a positive note, I am very excited about Thanksgiving for many reasons.  First and foremost, I am thrilled to be able to spend time with my family and my darling brother who I don't see very often.  It is also great to be able to spend uninteruppted time with them without worrying about work.  I am also very excited for the different wonderful foods and smells from Thanksgiving.  I have always loved the traditional turkey dinner with gravy and stuffing.  My parents make the most wonderful cornbread stuffing with gravy.  When I get to the driveway of their house, I can smell the dinner as soon as I step out of the car.

Even though this entry has been so difficult to write about, I am so glad that I did.  It is great to write and get these feelings out of me.  Somehow writing and reading the entry removes it from me, puts it on the screen, and I don't feel those things quite as intensely.

Thank you for reading and accompanying me on my journey.  Have a wonderful holiday.

Chemosabe