Linda Legendre
Transforming her role as healer
Chemotherapy begins
Once my tonsil was removed, chemotherapy began and continued in three-week cycles with six days of medicine each cycle. I received cisplatin while in the hospital and was sent home with a battery-driven pack of 5FU programmed to last six more days. I said I wouldn't become a "couch person," but I must admit I indulged in plenty of horizontal time watching mindless movies.
Most patients don't have much nausea during chemotherapy with the new anti-nausea drugs. I defied the odds and had lots of it while I was receiving the medication. I felt like the girl in the story of the Princess and the Pea because I was so sensitive. I had nausea during the day, and at night I dreamed of food. I had my own little private celebration every time the 5FU finished and I could turn the battery pack off. Dr. Lori Wirth and Rosemary Costello, the research nurse, were always calling me with ideas to make me more comfortable.
Either my sister or a friend came with me for the chemotherapy treatments and stayed overnight at my house in the weeks following whenever I needed them. It was so comforting to have someone nearby. Fear of the unknown during a serious illness can be overwhelming. My sister, Nancy, is a nurse who lives in the next town, and she stayed with me many nights. She instinctively knew what I needed and always kept the external chaos of my life to a dull roar. We cleaned drawers and closets when we were together, but she's an organizer and I'm a sentimental saver, so we did some serious laughing at what we found stashed away. Anyone remember those plastic rain hats that fold to an accordian pleat? I have one and I'm saving it for the Antiques Road Show.
Life during chemotherapy is governed by the blood counts. I'm happy to report I have no needle phobias, and I was able to get most of my blood work done at the lab at my office five minutes from my house. It was good for me to see the people at work on a regular basis since they were like a cheerleading squad for me. They helped me hold the vision of the day I would be able to return to work as a recovered, once-again energetic human being.
I loved the magic mouthwash I was prescribed for the mouth sores that appeared in the second week of each cycle, and I found a baby gum brush that was the gentlest thing I could use for brushing my teeth. My pharmacists also had so many suggestions along the way concerning my medications, and the whole pharmacy staff gave me such personal service.
I socialized no matter how I felt because it gave me a reason to get out of bed. By the third week of each chemotherapy cycle, I actually felt great again and my only job was to fatten up by the next dose. After two weeks of liquid food, I was sick of even smoothies, so I called friends and everyone was happy to help me with the "gain back weight" project. Every woman I know would like to be told to eat all she wants, and I did just that. I was invited out to eat every night. Although I still wouldn't recommend this diet to others, I started each new cycle close to my normal weight again. I was able to walk for miles during that third week of the cycle to get my strength back. At the end of the three cycles, a group of friends and my family bought me a piece of artwork from my favorite artist to celebrate the milestone. It really helped to break the treatment down into sections, and I felt such a major sense of accomplishment at this juncture.
Hair loss is not an easy experience for a male or female, and I did grieve a bit when it happened. Eventually, it sort of takes a backseat to all the other things that are going on. The drugs in my chemotherapy regimen caused a slower loss of hair than some other drugs do, so I had one interim haircut before the close shave. My friend Steve was there recording it on film. I had my stilettos on and it became another of those moments that might have felt tragic, but wasn't.
Next page: Surgery and a G-tube
