Infusion Room

It’s the surgical steel needle

That places the angiocath

Into the cephalic vein

And delivers the drip

Of saline

And Decamethasone steroid

And Velcade

To attack the tumor burden

In the IgM that now measures over 8000

Slowing my thinking,

Blurring my vision.

Frail and vulnerable

I sit in the baby blue Naugahyde recliner

Under a warmed blanket,

My left arm

Tethered to the Micro Macro XL Hospera

On the IV pole

And watch the drip slide from bag to tube

And then disappear under the bandage

And into the angiocath:

The launch vehicle,

On perfect target…blood in the cephalic

Heading towards home in the marrow of the bone.

It’s a war zone in there….circling, whirling, clogging

Pooling

And plummeting into the heart

and out again and zooming around

In the circulatory system.

The dead cells open up channels slowly

And the miracle of my stamina and strength

And mental calm

And the positive energy

Circling from friends far and near

Will

I believe,

Knock this alien tumor burden

Into remission.

And so today…

My third infusion went well

And with the help of modern chemistry

I am feeling good

And so thankful.