PTSD and the Chemo Suite

On Tuesday I had to go get an infusion for osteoperosis due to the chemo meds and menopause.  

This was my first time back in the chemo suite in almost a year and let me tell you I had all the feels.  The day didn't start great.  I was dealing with side effects from my Nerlynx so I already wasn't feeling good.

As the day progressed I just had more and more anxiety and uneasiness.  I really wasn't sure why.  Last time I got this infusion I was really sick the next day so I thought may be that was it.  Just dreading being sick and trying to double up on fluids to prevent it.

But as I walked down the hallway I realized that was just part of it.  My body has no good memories of the chemo suite.  


Yes, this is where I got the medicine that saved my life, but this is also the place that we found out I had ZERO white blood cells and was super sick.  

It's the place I had to come every other day for months to get fluids because I was so sick.  

It's the place my doctor told me I would have to stop one of my meds because I was so sick.  

It's the place where I stood at the nurses station and cried because I was so scared. 

It's the place I came for 18 months and spent hours in a chair getting pumped full of medicine that made me sick while at the same time making me better.

So, as I arrived and took my chair I realized what I had failed to realize all day 
I was scared.  I was sad.  I was mad.  I was grateful.  I was anxious.  I was all of it.  I never thought a room in a building would be one of my fears, but it is.  All the memories were there.  The mumble of all the voices.  The smells of the cleaning products.  The beeping of the infusion machines.  Seeing the people who were/are sicker than I was/am.  Seeing the people who were/are healthier than I was/am.  All of it.  

It's hard to describe a place that I hate and love at the same time.  The things that went on in this room made me very, very sick, but they also kept me alive. 

PTSD due to an illness is real.  All the trauma that comes with it.  I always think I have moved on and then something comes and slaps my in the face and makes me realize, that although I am not cancer, cancer is a part of me.  It will always be there.  Floating in the back of my mind somewhere.