My infusion day or "bliss in the chemo room"

This is my view for half of the day today. The chemo center at Kaiser.
Every 6 weeks I have an infusion of Remicade, my immunosuppressant. An infusion means basically that they need to put my medication into my body very slowly over a long period of time through a filter. In this case I'm usually here for about 4 hrs start to finish.

I watch the seriously and sometimes fatally ill come and go as I sit here and I count my blessings.
For some a day spent with an IV in their arm for hours sitting with chemo patients, nurses and Drs may not sound like a good time. Some, who dislike hospitals and Drs, may feel it would be awful and torture. I've heard all of these opinions from many people.
For me it's a miraculous, relaxing and fascinating day.






Those of us who tip the scales on the grateful optimist side of life do look at the world (glass) as half full. Whatever suffering we may be going through I can promise you it could always always be worse. This day reminds me of that. Without using or taking away from these brave souls I see in this room, this day makes me grateful for what I have, not bitter about what I don't or why I'm there. It makes me thank the gods that I can get up and walk out, for some can't, I'm thankful for my hair, those extra few pounds I may be carrying and for the fact that my medication isn't fighting to keep me alive, just give me a better quality of life. It's humbling to talk to these people and have them smiling and laughing. And it gives me strength.
This day is also, I will freely admit, quite relaxing for me. I've worked in the medical field for 16+ years and have had major medical issues since I was 20 years old so hospitals are not scary to me. Quite the opposite, I feel very at home and safe in them. I love the smells, the sounds, the people, and I get to experience all of this kid free! No children allowed in the chemo room and you're only supposed to get up for the restroom. Think about this moms and dads. 4 hrs sitting in a chair that reclines, with as many pillows, heated blankets and juice or water you could ask for. Not allowed to get up, not allowed to make phone calls. It's like a mini vacation!!!! Stuck there with my book, or music, or even just Pinterest or Facebook. You see I have no choice! I can do nothing else.
And finally it is fascinating because, in case you didn't know, I'm a talker. I enjoy meeting new people each time, catching up with my nurses. I also love the medical jargon I hear and things I learn.
Now, my body doesn't love this medication, so I do occasionally land in bed for a day or two, nauseated (and one unfortunate incident of puking on the side of highway 101 while M and kids stayed in the car-oops😉) and quite dizzy, so much so that I've been unable to drive home on occasion. (Thank you again to amazing friends for picking me up!) So, we've learned to do them on Friday so I have a weekend to recover.
I also don't want to make light of these meds, especially if anyone is out there listening who also takes them. They are dangerous and the last resort. The problems /complications they can cause are worse than my disease because the outcome can be fatal. I'm not trying to be dramatic, just honest. So, when we were given the option M and I had many in depth and serious discussions about quality of life vs quantity. And we decided what good is a long life if you can't live it? And this medication is currently the only reason I have even the small semblance of a life I have now. It's the reason I can get out of bed, play with my kids, pick my daughter up from school and even just make my son lunch. Because believe it or not those things are impossible without it.

So, my friends, yes the medication may be harsh and medically heinous and yadda yadda yadda, BUT the way it is delivered is somewhat divine and actually provides me with sanity and rest. Just a little slice of heaven in a cold chemo room.