Today's to-do list: Kate and Parker to dentist, Rachel's ears re-pierced, chemo infusion, grocery store.

Chemotherapy and Spring Break may not go together as well as you'd think. Instead of arranging play dates and swimming and movies I spent much of the day at MSTI being readied for my first treatment.
I wasn't expecting the hardest part of chemo being the calls from my kids from home needing rides and lunch and parental permission to go to a friends', but 2 or 3 hours is a huge wait for excited kids with no school.
I ended up waiting quite awhile, so I had plenty of time to field the kids' phone calls. Unfortunately I couldn't do much to help them. My wait had a funky effect on the MSTI staff as well. Because of a queuing error, Rachel and I ended up waiting an hour and twenty minutes before they got me started on my lab draws, and everyone was looking for a scapegoat. The nurse was angry with the receptionist, the nurses in the chemo room were angry with the scheduler, and the nurse helping me was angry with the petite power port I'd been fitted with, and mad at my doctor's funky orders that didn't follow "normal" protocol. It was intense for awhile. Where was my happy place?
This story does have a pleasant ending, however. Eventually I did get the chemo, anti-nausea meds, steroids, and anti-anxiety fluids I was promised, everyone got over finger pointing and did their job pleasantly, and Grandma Dee and Ron swooped in to make sure the kids at home got where they wanted and needed to go. I even got a roast beef sandwich and a little cup of strawberry ice cream out of the deal. Score!
The more impressive score has been my reaction to the chemo so far (knock on wood, of course).
I honestly feel pretty much normal so far. I've been grocery shopping, to the YMCA (where I got a hug from my empathetic friend and breast cancer survivor, Kristina) and enjoyed a comforting evening meal made by other empathetic friends.
I also got to spend almost all day with a dear sweet daughter who oozed composure, kindness, and fun throughout. You can't beat that. It wasn't without bumps, so in that way it was just like any old day. I can do this. I aspire to be the comedienne of the chemo room! Not that the competition is that tough . . . Tomorrow on to self-administered Nupigen shots! Hurrah!!