Blog post 13. My armchair at the oncology ward for my first chemotherapy session was also number 13. Lucky or unlucky? Maybe both. Because I am and I not superstitious. Just like Stevie Wonder! As I walked in, I thought of how he might have sung “Very superstitious / Writing's on the wall” but also “Superstition ain't the way / Yeh, yeh”. (I only did this in my mind.) For me the number 13 symbolises big challenges, that’s all. Good or bad luck - either way it was the only empty chair available, and waiting for me.
Except at the cinema, I have never sat in any armchair for a significant length of time. This was a promising start because I already associate these creaky, squeaky, squishy seats with comfort and entertainment. I was pleased to see that there was a remote control, enabling me to move the backrest and footrest up or down. At least that gave me a degree of power over my situation. If my mood was maybe going to go up and down, then I thought my head and feet might as well do the same.
There was plenty of space around each chair. Almost too much really. I had envisaged sitting in a star-shape of 5 armchairs, with 4 new friends, each of us just reading and chatting quietly about our sandwiches. But in reality it was more like a session at the hairdresser’s – especially because I was getting the Cold Cap treatment at the same time as my chemotherapy.
In all honesty, I felt ‘nothing’ during the entire chemotherapy treatment. I was far more aware of the Cold Cap. For this, there was a quick fitting session for the jelly mould cap, before a foam cycling style hat was velcroed on top, and I simply sat down with a book. For the first few minutes, I got a mild headache. Gradually, this subsided and I actually began to enjoy the experience. It was oddly refreshing. The sensation reminded me of snow! Beautiful, white, white snow! My scalp tingled and I cooled down wonderfully!
Afterwards my hair (which had been slathered in thick conditioner to stop it sticking to the inside of the cap when removed) was so soft and slippery. When I got home and washed it, it was in a better state that it has been in for ages. It might be interesting to see what happens between now and my second chemo-and-cold-cap session. I really want to hold on to my hope and my hair.
With the whole Positive Thinking Approach, I am making progress, I think. For example, I did not feel unwelcome as the 13th guest. I have tested that I do not have a fear of the number 13 which makes me ‘non-triskaidaphobic’. What a relief! So that’s one thing to tick off my list of worries then!
