Chemo day 1, check. I really don't like being poked and prodded with all those needles. It seems like once the needle is in its position, and the drugs slowly seep into my blood, I get more sick. Ironically, it's making me better. The doctors said to anticipate hair loss, vomiting, and weekly check-ups with a counselor.
"How are you holding up?"
"Fine"
"You know you can talk to me."
"I'm fine mom, really."
"You don't have to be strong for me, I am doing okay. If you need to cry, you cry. If it hurts, you can tell me."
"I know mom, but I'm... I'm..."
"You're what?"
"Get me the garbage!"
I didn't think the side effects would kick in that fast. I hate puking, and my stomach was having a fit. Why can't this just be over already? I'm so miserable, I'm starting to think I would just rather die.
Chemo day 10, check. I'm starting to lose my hair, it isn't very fun.
"Mom, I want to shave my head."
"Okay, when?"
"Soon, it looks awful."
"Okay, well whenever you want it done."
"Could you do it now?"
"Sure, I'll ask the nurses if it's alright."
"Okay."
I get up to walk around the room and stretch a little. Walking past the mirror my reflection scared me. I am not the person looking back at me in the mirror. That person is pale, almost bald, and has dark circles under Her eyes. She looks like death. That's not me in the mirror, it's not me.
"Vera."
I turn my attention away from the mirror and looked at my mom. She looked sort of happy to be back talking to me.
"I have good news."
"You can finish balding me?"
"You can come home."
"Really!?"
"Yes, we just need to come up to the hospital for your chemo sessions."
"I'll be able to sleep in my own bed?"
"Yes. I already called to let Gran and Grandad know that we're coming home."
"Can I wear a hat?"
"Why?"
"I don't want anyone to look at me like I'm an alien. Keenan hasn't even seen me like this."
"Oh Vera, that's what you're worried about?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you're still a beauty."
"I don't feel like it."
"But you are."
I smiled at my mom, she's trying so hard to be strong for me. To make me feel beautiful, even though I know I look terrible.
"Get ready to leave."
"Okay, are there any of my clothes here? Or do I have to wear the gown home?"
"I brought some clothes up here for you. The bag is right over there, you can go and get dressed."
"I'm so sorry mom."
"Vera, it's fine. Don't worry about it."
"I puked all over the car, that's not okay."
"It's fine. End of story."
"I don't need special treatment."
"It's not special treatment. You can't control that you puke. It's a side effect, and it's fine."
I just watch the passing trees on our ride home. There is faint music on the radio, but it's too quiet to make out what song it is. I get so caught up in trying to figure out what songs were on the radio, that the ride home was nothing. Before long we were headed down the driveway towards the house. I never thought I'd miss seeing the house, and the yard so much. It was refreshing to have normal back in the equation that is my life.
"V!"
"Hey Matthew."
"Vera, it's so nice to have you back!"
"It's nice to be back Gran. Where's Bri?"
"She left."
"Why?"
"Because she had to Vera. It was nothing against you."
"That's easy for you to say, Mom. You weren't dying in the hospital, and had the one person you wanted most there, leave with out saying goodbye!"
"Vera, calm down. Stressing out isn't good for you."
I walked into my room and laid on my bed. I covered my face so no one could see me crying, that is if anyone decided to come in. There was a soft knock at my door and my mom spoke sweetly.
"Vera, do you want me to do your hair now?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, then come to the bathroom."
I felt like Gran was secretly judging me for my little freak out. So I tried to walk as fast as I could to the bathroom. The clippers were setting on the sink, and my mom had a bag of something on the floor.
"Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
I'm not familiar with the sound of the clippers buzzing on my head. It's actually kind of irritating, but it was over pretty fast.
"So, I got you a surprise."
"Yeah?"
"Uh huh."
"What is it?"
"I got you a bag of bandanas to wear."
"Really?"
"Yes, in a bunch of different colors too."
"Sweet. Thanks mom."
"You're welcome."
