I think we expected fireworks.
Or a marching band.
Maybe an airplane trailing a banner...."Kevin finished chemotherapy today!"
Instead Kevin felt sick and exhausted and slept for 2 hours at lunch and another 3 hours this evening. The Man-Couch comes through for him again.
He's disappointed. He hoped all of it would be done promptly at 10 a.m. today. Side effects, changes, adjustments would all be disconnected from our lives as surely as the chemotherapy pump would be disconnected from him.
I'm more practical (It's easy to be practical when you aren't the one with the miserable side effects.) I reason that his body doesn't know it's the last treatment. All it knows is that it got slammed again with another dose of chemo-poison.
Or maybe it does know. Maybe what he sees as a let-down, another betrayal by a body that wouldn't celebrate with him today, is actually his body saying, "It's over. I've done well and I can rest now. I can begin to recover. I don't have to get him through it anymore because, dammit, we ARE through it."
There's something to be said for those quiet celebrations we hold within.
Or a marching band.
Maybe an airplane trailing a banner...."Kevin finished chemotherapy today!"
Instead Kevin felt sick and exhausted and slept for 2 hours at lunch and another 3 hours this evening. The Man-Couch comes through for him again.
He's disappointed. He hoped all of it would be done promptly at 10 a.m. today. Side effects, changes, adjustments would all be disconnected from our lives as surely as the chemotherapy pump would be disconnected from him.
I'm more practical (It's easy to be practical when you aren't the one with the miserable side effects.) I reason that his body doesn't know it's the last treatment. All it knows is that it got slammed again with another dose of chemo-poison.
Or maybe it does know. Maybe what he sees as a let-down, another betrayal by a body that wouldn't celebrate with him today, is actually his body saying, "It's over. I've done well and I can rest now. I can begin to recover. I don't have to get him through it anymore because, dammit, we ARE through it."
There's something to be said for those quiet celebrations we hold within.
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