But recently, the memories haven’t all been quite so pleasant. A year ago, I started chemo treatments. To be perfectly honest, on June 1, when I read the post about starting chemo, I felt sick to my stomach.
I can remember that day like it was last week and not last year. I can still picture the room in the Medical Center where my PICC line was inserted. The doctor was talking to two nurses while they did the procedure. They were talking about the weekend—it was bright and early Monday morning, and they were reliving the fun of the weekend. I believe the doctor was talking about a wedding he had attended on Saturday and how he had rather of gone golfing.
I can remember walking to the car, looking at my right arm, wondering about the little tube that was running up my vein.
I can remember the look on the lady’s face as we checked in for my doctor’s appointment. I can remember the exact moment she read the spot on my record that indicated I’d be starting chemo. Just for a minute, her eyes flicked up to my face and then back to the computer screen. That lady and I came to know each other pretty well.
I can remember my wife holding my hand and allowing me to grip her hand desperately as we walked down the hall towards Oncology.
I can remember being shown back to the treatment room. I remember carrying the bag with my blanket, snacks and bottled water. I remember the chemo nurses talking me through everything they were going to do. I can remember their kindness and compassion. I can remember the first time I looked at my arm and could watch the veins turn darker as the chemo was moving through my veins.
Two weeks ago, I had my 6 month scans and blood work. The technician inserted a catheter in my arm to draw blood and for the CT technologist to insert the contrast dye. As the technician finished drawing blood, she flushed the line with saline. The taste came flooding into my mouth and I remember the daily flushing of my PICC line. The smell and taste of the saline as Laura flushed the line to keep infection at bay will never leave me.
I don’t really need Facebook Memories to remind me of a year ago. Those days and weeks will never leave me. But those memories remind me of this: I am a survivor. God allowed me to survive cancer and to survive the treatments. Today is National Cancer Survivor Day. If you see a survivor with a faraway look in their eyes, they may just be reliving some memories that may grow a bit dimmer as the months and years pass, but will never completely leave them. If you know a survivor, give them a hug and congratulate them on being a survivor.
