It's Getting Better

We are just finishing Day 3 of the first week and Sue is just now feeling better. After two days of misery, she has gotten her meds straight and can manage the sickness and headaches. I feel like I havent really done anything for her. I just rub her head or her back and wish I could do more. She is so strong. I'm really proud of her. And I'm also just really tired. Seems funny to say that - I'm not doing anything but just living life and I can hardly keep my eyes open. I think she will go to her house tomorrow. This place will feel lonely when she leaves.

Day One - The First Treatment

Let's just say there is a lot of room for improvement in chemo treatment rooms. Man, that was sort of depressing. The room looks right out to the ocean (even Newport Beach has cancer!), but the whole windowsill was lined with Precious Moments figurines, which just makes you feel like you are sitting at your Grandma's house. There were also a lot of old people in wigs sitting there getting treatment. Sue and I both thought it felt sort of surreal - talking about redecorating her house, like there was nothing weird happening to her or around us. I felt really out of my element. I'm not sure I was the best I could be - I just wanted to grab her and take her somewhere way more fabulous. I mean, if you have to pour toxins into your blood, you should at least do it in a cool location! The flourescent lights were just awful. Can we not change those out for pink lightbulbs or something that makes everyone feel a little more youthful and alive?

We had lunch afterwards. It was nice, we shared some good laughs about nothing. She was tired, but wasn't sure if it was from the treatment or just lack of sleep. By the time we got home, it looked like she was starting to get dark circles under her eyes already. I don't know if that's my imagination. It really seemed a little like she was transforming before my eyes. It scared me a little. I feel like crying as I type this because I know that it's going to get much worse for her before it gets better and there is nothing I can do to change it or take it away. I want to find ways to make her laugh and bring joy to her life.

Cancer just isn't funny.

The Night Before

It's the night before my friend is having her first chemo treatment. She is sleeping downstairs. I am upstairs - feeling woefully unprepared for tomorrow. In the past year, we have become closer than almost any other relationship I have in my life. First, her husband died suddenly. Then I had a horrible miscarriage, not to mention a few other crappy things that will remain anonymous, and now this.
Here is how I feel right now: Anxious. Nervous that I won't know the right things to do or say. Scared that I am too selfish and won't do as much as I could or should. And just sad. So sad that she has to deal with so much at one time in her life.
There really isn't much out there about how to care for your friend that has cancer. I feel totally unprepared for what is ahead of us. I'm much better when I know what to expect from a situation. I can control it that way.