Cocktails as an Endurance Event

The feeling that I was having the worst hangover of my life at 7:00 p.m. on Thursday should have come as no big surprise, given that I started the mother of all cocktail sessions at 9:00 a.m. that morning. And I was mainlining them.

After the check-in, weigh-in and blood draw, they settled me into one of the big aqua recliners to start the IV drip of saline through a vein in my right hand to hydrate me before the chemicals began. There are 10 recliners in the room, facing the nurse's desk in a horseshoe shape. Each can be closed off with a curtain, but on Thursday, as on any other day that I have seen this room when walking past, no curtains were drawn. Like any other ritual, chemo has its culturally acceptable behaviors, and closing the curtain seems somehow antisocial.

Although some of my fellow patients might have appreciated it if we had closed ours off or even requested a private room, anything to slightly dampen the occasional peals of laughter. Who needs the distraction of the TVs hanging above each chair when you have Molly and Sarah telling tales of their adventures in the art world? They added a bright spot to the less-than-glamourous surroundings, with their shiny blond hair, gorgeous smiles and scarlet coats.

After a little shopping and lunch, they made sure I made it home to bed. Which was exactly where I needed to be. Michael came home that night and found me grey-faced and exhausted, a little nauseated, with a splitting headache. I managed a few saltines and some water before collapsing into bed at 9.

But by yesterday, the worst had passed. I woke up early with Michael on Friday and the color was already returning to my cheeks. After a few more hours of sleep, I felt immensely better, almost normal. Today I am a little exhausted, but am working through it with a bit of fresh air and plenty of naps.

To everyone who has sent flowers and food this week, thank you for keeping the apartment bright and our sprits and bodies nourished! And thanks to all of you for your thoughtful comments, notes and emails - knowing that I am going through this with so much love and support makes this 16-week cocktail party much easier to bear.