Oh, leave it to me to write a vaguely freaked out post and then follow it up with a week's worth of silence. A week's worth of time where I managed to not only stop freaking out, but regain my usual buoyant personality, and get both myself and my sister through her first chemo appointment.

One down, seven to go.

As I said before, the unknowing is way worse than the knowing. And so far, what we know is that the cancer center is right around the corner from a chi-chi gourmet grocery store. And the infusion center where my sister will receive all her treatments is at the same hospital where she was born - and it is way, way nicer than the cancer center's infusion rooms, to which I say - IN YOUR FACE SNOBBY RECEPTIONISTS.

(My sister's insurance apparently isn't good enough for her to receive treatment at the actual cancer center - so we have to go one driveway over to the hospital instead. The receptionists and billing manager at the cancer center have made a big, stinking deal about how we would HAVE to go to the hospital because OUR insurance was inadequate and therefore WE can't use their facility. They enjoy repeating this over and over, especially in the waiting room, in front of other patients. I can't wait to go back and inform them (loudly) how superior the facilities are over at the hospital.)

On Thursday afternoon, we went down to meet with her oncologist (who is delightful) and then we headed up to the hospital to get her pre-chemo bloodwork done. We had a brief wait for the phlebotomist, and were giddy to see that the woman doing the work was about six feet tall, with Frida Kahlo's eyebrows, hair pulled back into two buns (one on each side of her head) slightly askew eyes and red and white striped stockings disappearing into black Doc Martens. When she called my sister back with a slight Eastern European accent, we were both beaming like a couple of Cheshire Cats.

I had forgotten to eat lunch in my rush to get out of the house, and was feeling pretty dingy by that point, so we stopped by the aforementioned chi-chi store for some sushi (for my sister) and a turkey wrap (for me) on the way home.

Friday morning, we were both pretty apprehensive, but we arrived at the hospital in good spirits. We checked in, and took a bunch of cheesy photos while we waited for the nurses to get the show on the road. I was so proud of my sister. She managed to keep her spirits high, and although she was very afraid of the IV, she toughed it out. It took a few tries to find a decent vein - but that was honestly the worst part.

We giggled and laughed so much we got a few sideways looks from the nurses. We both ate snacks and took some more photos. Both medicines were delivered with no drama or side effects, and after a few hours, we were back on the road to home.

Although she's tired, our worst fears of rampant nausea or other nasty side-effects haven't materialized. We're cautiously hopeful. She can get through this. WE can get through this.

And in the future, I'm going to remember that slimy boulders may redirect the flow of the river, but even if I bump into one, I'm going to slide right off it and keep on keepin' on.