Showing posts with label routine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label routine. Show all posts

15 March 2010

The Office




No. This doesn't star Steve Carrell. This stars three amazing people, with whom I have the privilege of working and knowing. This is not only because they're all consummate professionals. But it's mostly because they are the most wonderful human beings: compassionate, unassuming, intelligent, helpful, kind, and considerate, generous, all with amazingly wicked sense of humor. They make it so that going to work was (and is) something I look forward to doing.

Structure and routine played a very important and positive role during my bout with cancer. And one of the important routines for me was going to work as much as possible at the time I was undergoing chemotherapy. It gave me something worthwhile to focus on during my waking hours; a sense of usefulness because it felt good to wake up every morning knowing I was contributing to a common good; and less of an opportunity to sit and wallow in cancer. And somehow, it empowered me to go on with the bout, each round.

It was also important that, at work, it would be "business as usual." I didn't want anyone to know that I was sick and wanted to go on as if nothing extra-ordinary was going on. Certainly, the notion of people asking and fussing at work was nothing I wanted I wanted to face. Fortunately for me, this was made possible by those three folks I mentioned above: My boss, N; his second in command, H, and my colleague and hallway neighbor, the wonderful Ms. B. We're a small team serving a huge purpose in national non-profit organization. We get along very well and work well together. Suffice it to say, this is the best place and the best group people I've ever worked with -- and I've been working for a long, long time!

When I was sick, they made sure that I never worried about work when I was out due to chemo. But, while I was at work, I was never made to feel somehow lacking because I was sick. They showed utmost care and concern without patronizing or smothering. They absolutely honored my request that we do not skip a beat because I was sick; that we do business as usual, as if cancer wasn't an issue. I was treated as normally as possible, and I couldn't thank them enough for this. And, because I didn't want my illness to be public, they were staunch protectors of that "secret." I most thankful for their effort in creating that space for me where I could just feel normal and not be sick. What an invaluable gift that was!

... and they cared (in so many little ways) like...

N would go to this tiny candy place every other weekend so that he could buy for me these organic ginger hard candies which were of tremendous help to my nausea. This was the only place they were available and he was always glad to go fetch them for me. H would faithfully come to my office every morning to see how I was and "mothered" (in a very good way) me by watching out for my fatigue level and being sure to remind me to rest or go home, if I didn't look well. And Ms. B, what can I say about her? She did everything from bring me scarves and hats for my head, to listen to me vent, to .... really everything else...seriously. She understood, when no one else could.

Everyone should be so fortunate to have such wonderful people to work with. I don't know how well I would have fared without the unwavering support and care that N, H, and Ms. B have generously given me all this time. I can say, without a doubt, that how well I fared during chemo has a direct correlation to how well these folks have cared for me and treated me during that time.

.....and for that, I will always be grateful.

10 March 2010

The Chemo R[egimen]hythm


Routine helps when you're faced with something as daunting as cancer. A sense of order and structure is immensely useful at this time. Leading a somewhat regimented life during my cancer treatment helped give a sense of order and control to the situation. To know what to expect when is empowering. It certainly helps in gaining control of the wheel, as it were. Who knew I would become a huge fan of the regimented life?

A year ago today, on March 11, 2009 Dr. T started my chemotherapy regimen of Carboplatin and Taxol, once every 3 weeks, for a duration of 8 sessions. He was hopeful that cancer would be treated in that time. If not, then all would be evaluated after 8 sessions.

That as a wee while -- 8 sessions -- 24 weeks. Having a set routine of things during this time helped trek unchartered territories. Who knew what was to happen, except that there was going to be chemo once in 3 weeks for 24 months? But, the structure and routine streamlined expectations and help prepare for the next steps. I'm not normally a "routines" type person. But I learned to appreciate it greatly during those times. It helped put a sense of order (and therefore, control) to things.

Chemo was consistently scheduled on a particular day of the week. Since I'd been told that all meds from chemo (including anti-nausea and Benadryl) would stay in my system 48 hours after chemo, I chose to have chemo scheduled either on Wednesdays or Thursdays. That way, I would only miss one day of work (chemo day) and could be functional for the rest of the week. That would leave the weekend to contend with the adverse side effects setting in after the meds wore off. This worked, I'm pleased to say. So, I highly recommend mid-week chemo sessions, if you don't want your work life too disrupted. In my case, I'm happy to say that I didn't miss a day of work due to post-chemo side-effects during my treatment. It was business as usual, just the way I wanted it.

The evening before chemo, my boyfriend would come and get me from my place and I'd spend the night at his so he could drive me to chemo in the morning. We would usually eat something decadent or nice (mostly to indulge me) that evening. Nothing fancy. Hydrate!

Chemo day, my boyfriend would drive me to Dr. T's office where I would first make a stop to see the phlebotomist for blood work, then a 15 minute check-in with the good doctor to see how I was doing. And then off I would go for chemo treatment for the next 5-hours. After the drip was done, I was always given a Nulasta shot. Then, I would call my boyfriend to come pick me up and take me back to my place where my daughter would be waiting for me. I would spend the rest of the week with at my place with my daughter and also go to work.

Weekend right after chemo, I would pack up and go to my boyfriend's to spend the weekend and be "miserable" after the meds wore off and the chemo side effects were in full force.

Week after chemo, I would feel a bit flu'ish and fatigued, but I still managed at work, although by the end of the week, I would like someone just beat me to a pulp. Thank goodness for weekends! Weekdays would be spent at my place with my daughter and weekends at my boyfriend's.

Second week after chemo, I would feel good -- as if nothing had happened. Outside of the long-standing chemo side effects like neuropathy, I would feel normal. Ring the bell! Next round!

This would be my structured life for the months ensuing. And I did not mind it. As a matter of fact, in concert with my oncologist, I created it. Who knew that at this juncture of my life, I would finally succumb to a regimented one? Having been brought up in in a strict and disciplined life, my knee jerk reaction to the notion of structure and routine, was to stay as far away from it as much as possible. It's ironic that regiment would help give my life back to me. To make it palatable though, I referred to it as rhythm. It's the same thing, but at least I could dance to rhythm.

Believe it or not, I actually looked forward to dancing to this 3-week rhythm. And, as unpleasant as the side effects were, it was a rhythm that I'd grown to anticipate and, dare I say, like. Because although chemo was poison and for me, it was ironicaly "good" because it was getting rid of my cancer. And I would go through any routine, structure, discipline, pattern, or regiment to effect that.

So, to those of you who are still in a chemo regimen, I encourage you to dance to the rhythm of your soon-to-be wellness. Kick up your heels and show cancer some moves!