Friday, March 7, 2014

The weeks between surgery and chemotherapy passed much too quickly. There were so many horror stories out there about chemo, and Olivia was, understandably, apprehensive. She didn't know how sick she was going to be; she didn't know how tired. She had gone against her usual nature and joined a support group. Casey had found out about it, and she thought it might be helpful to talk to people who understood what she was going through. It turned out to be a god-send. She found herself meeting every Wednesday with eight other women who were in varying stages of their cancer treatment. She had a better idea of what to expect from the chemo. But she also came to learn that it affects everyone a little differently.

Her oncologist had given her a small booklet of prescriptions to fill, mostly anti-nausea medications, but also anti-anxiety, a topical anesthetic, and a blood thinner. The trip to the pharmacy produced a rather large shopping bag of pills and a $280.00 co-pay. With the drugs, and the surgery, and the multiple office visits at $30.00 a pop, this was getting pricey.

Arriving for her first chemotherapy treatment was surreal. There was still a little part of her that couldn't believe this was happening. She had planned her treatments for Friday afternoons, thinking this would give her the weekend to recover. She would have four treatments in total, every other week for eight weeks. She had come alone. Knowing the treatment would take about three hours, she didn't want to bore anyone. Melinda had promised to give her a ride home after.

A nurse called her in to take her vitals and a blood draw. She then found a seat in the chemo room and waited to be hooked up. She didn't look when the nurse pushed the needle through her skin and into the port, but she felt it. Damn, that numbing cream didn't work at all. She took a deep breath and settled back into the recliner with her book. She couldn't really read though. She knew that it would be best if she remained calm. She looked around her at the other chemo patients. There were about four other people with her in this corner of the room. They all seemed nonplussed by what was going on. They clearly weren't newbies.

There was a woman in the corner who caught her attention. She looked almost serene as she sat there, letting the chemo drip into her veins. She was knitting. Obviously, she had been at this a while. A pretty floral scarf covered her head. She looked to be a little younger than Olivia. "First time?" the young woman smiled up at her.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You'll be fine. They're the best here. My name is Kate."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Olivia. What are you making?"

"Socks." she said, holding up the project. "That the great thing about the port-o-cath. It leaves both my hands free to knit. I can't really read during chemo. My head gets to foggy. But this keeps me busy. Do you knit?"

"I, umm, I used to, in college. Haven't even thought about it in years. I never progressed past potholders or scarves though."

"I have some extra needles and yarn in my bag. You wanna give it a go."

"Oh, no, I'm sure I don't remember how." Olivia blushed. She really didn't like doing things in public that she wasn't proficient in.

"It's like riding a bike." Kate started pulling supplies out of her bag. "Here, I'll get you started. It's not like we don't have the time."

Olivia laughed at herself, and went along. It wasn't like she had anything better to do. The actual knitting came back to her quickly, and it really helped pass the time. Before she knew it Kate had finished her treatment and was packing up to leave.

"Oh, don't forget this." Olivia said, winding up the yarn.

"You can hold on to it. Are you going to be here in two weeks?" Kate asked.

"Yeah."

"We'll catch up then." Kate smiled. "You take care, Olivia. It was nice to meet you."

"You too."

Olivia was now alone in her corner of the room, but she didn't mind. The knitting seemed to be incredibly therapeutic, and she didn't even notice that Melinda was standing in front of her.

"What are you doing Detective Benson?" she asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Olivia looked up laughing.

"I didn't know you knew how to knit."

"I actually forgot that I knew. Fortunately, someone reminded me."

One of the nurses came over to check on Olivia's IV. "It looks like you're done here Ms. Benson. Time to kick you out." She pulled over a supply cart and proceeded to remove the needle from the port. "Just keep some pressure on that for a minute, and you'll be good to go."

Melinda pulled a chair up beside her friend "So how are you feeling?"

"Really, I feel okay. Maybe a little light-headed, but that could be from stress. Maybe a little bit foggy, maybe a little bit drunk?"

"Drunk?"

"Well, that's not quite the right feeling but it's as close as I can come."

"Do you want to try to eat something? We could go out, or pick something up on the way to your apartment."

"Yes, let's go out. I want a cheeseburger and french fries."

"Come again?"

"A cheeseburger and french fries."

"Oh, Olivia. Are you sure. Maybe you should go with something, I don't know, a little blander. What if you do get sick?"

Well, if I get sick, maybe I'll create an aversion to cheeseburgers and french fries. That wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?

The weekend was fairly uneventful. She felt okay. Maybe a little queasy at times, maybe a little more tired than usual, but nothing devastating. She considered texting Amaro to let him know she was available if he needed any help with any of his cases, but, decided against it. Instead she opted to hit the books. If the captain wanted her to take the sergeant's exam in the fall she had no intention of letting him down.