Day 2 of my treatment starts off bright and productive. I read Kafka on the Shore, answer emails, receive phone calls, and peruse the LLS Forums. I do 10 laps around the unit, shower and devour my breakfast. It could be like any other day, but at noon the pre-meds arrive along with an unappetizing lunch. Two hours of ara-c followed by a short break and then some more pre-meds, this time a steroid, ending with an hour infusion of clofarabine. This flattens me, and although my brother and my son are in the room with me, I am alone and feeling the effects of the toxins. I drift in and out, and finally ask for some iv ativan.
Everything seems difficult to do. Just getting into the bathroom requires untangling of wires and jockeying the plugged-in pole hanging with meds into a small space. I manage. Between my dance pole, my laptop with dial-up cord and my cell phone plug, wires snake everywhere and follow along behind me as I go through the motions.
I could be at home having dinner with my family, just like any other night. But I'm here in this sick room while life continues without me. How did this happen?