Pinky Pie

Chemo-put-poison-in-your-body-and-hope-it-kills-more-cancer cells-than-me-therapy” & me

Posted on: October 27, 2009

The term, chemo, has been on my mind lately. I’m wondering whether it should have a nickname that seems so innocent. How cozy cuddly should I be with a poison put into my body to kill stuff – except the vessel in which it is put – namely me.

I will have my last of the fourth dreaded Adriamycin and Cytoxan treatments on November 6 – and if it goes as well as my third, I will be OK. If it doesn’t go as well, I’ll still be OK. After the first two treatments, I had felt like a truck had run me over. I said it was a pickup the first time and a semi the second. I feared a tank for the third and a full convoy running back and forth across me on the fourth.

After the four sessions with the drug known as “the Red Devil,” I’ll have four sessions of Taxol. But I’m told it is more tolerable than the Red Devil, with its own joyful side effects. Time will tell.

Anyway, writer at described the two syringes of the Red Devil: “They reminded me of something Warner Brothers would use in a cartoon – they were very big! And very red! I would say they were about 5 inches long and about 3/4 inch in diameter. They were A lot bigger than your average syringe! That went in quite slowly.”

Another person wrote, “If I was a horse and saw them coming at me I’d run. However, I could not run from my first chemo treatment.”

Either way, as grateful as I m that these drugs are saving my life – but I’m still pondering about whether I want to get too close to them by giving a nickname like, “chemo.” The red devil seems more apt.

I may be over thinking the issue, but my friend, Rebekka, came up with a term for that stuff I’m taking. I’m not sure what to call Rebekka, whom I’ve met maybe three times at family gatherings in Portland ,OR, where my brother lives. She is full of fun, quirky and we get each other’s humor. She is married to the son of my sister in law’s brother.

What does that mean she is in relation to me? In the Jewish world, she is Machatonim, which is Yiddish for relatives by marriage. I’m not sure how far Machatonim goes. She may be a second Machatonim or a Machatonim-once removed.

Through Facebook, we’ve become friends. We play occasional Scrabble games and exchange comments periodically. Rebekka and I also had a brief discussion about the term, “chemo.”

She quickly came up with “Chemo-put-poison-in-your-body-and-hope-it-kills-more-of-them-than-you-therapy.” I tweaked it to “Chemo-put-poison-in-your-body-and-hope-it-kills-more-cancer cells-than-me-therapy.” That says it all. Go “Chemo-put-poison-in-your-body-and-hope-it-kills-more-cancer cells-than-me-therapy.” May it do its job while I do mine.

I’m on to the next and last treatment of the Red Devil on Nov. 6. There’s enough of the red devil in me that I am woman enough to take the chemotherapy.


3 Responses to "Chemo-put-poison-in-your-body-and-hope-it-kills-more-cancer cells-than-me-therapy” & me"

I’m glad to hear you are feeling better this round. Hooray for medical science, even though it is pretty intense at times. It will make you cancer free!

oh fffffuck…it is existentially very weird to have just bitchslapped Maria Shriver for blubbering about being unprepared for losing her mother at the horribly tragic age of…50…(that’s Maria’s age, not her ma’s)

and then to be splitting sides reading about horses, red devils and being “woman enough” to take the “smart poison” that’s supposed to know the difference between Good You and Bad You…

oh ffffffffffffffffffuk…is it bad of me to just…kind of…sorta…visualize…somebody else getting your cancer? I mean, is that wrong??????????????

oh, I fuhgot to say what fun it is to have a friend named Pinky…you have NO IDEA how much fun it is to write “hey Pinky!”…or to tell my husband, when he calls to me from the other room, wondering what the hell I’m doing all these hours on the computrix…”Hey, I’m checking in with Pinky!”

see…it IS just the silliest little things…

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