Did you sing the title in FRIENDS opening show tune:) – What better way to title when the blog is about friends and the Pivot episode is my all time favorite. I debated a lot about whether I should start this blog with those friendship quotes we have come across. Are you going to be reading one or not – any guesses?
Well, you will not read quotes, but learn how friends from another mother become your heart sisters and brothers and can become living examples of many of those friendship quotes. Friends who cry for me and give their extraordinary support during my most challenging times to bring a smile to my face, making my life beautiful.
The non-stop treatment for the last two and a half years without a break sometimes takes a toll on me when I reflect on how quickly a routine of joining work calls switched to taking chemo earlier on Tuesdays and now on Thursdays. The only known thing – accepted on my calendar that I try my very best to make it every time without fail is a visit to my clinic; everything else that I commit to nowadays is tentative, depending on how I feel about the side effects during the week.
A typical chemo day routine in the clinic starts with blood work, followed by a visit to the doctor or PA, a discussion about my overall health in the week along with the results from the blood work, my pain management, and then the most basic human functioning conversation around my bowel movement, nausea, sleep pattern, etc. Once that is done, I return to my chemo chair to start the treatment. Virtually, I receive a ton of prayers and positive thoughts on Thursday morning from friends and family.
Trodelvy, the chemo drug that is currently keeping me alive, requires many pre-medications to ensure no reactions. So we start the chemo treatment with Tylenol pills, then an anti-nausea IV medication IV is dispensed for about 30 minutes. This anti-nausea medicine works its course for the next three days. Following that, I am given four injections – anti-diarrhea, Pepsid, Anti-nausea (yes, this is for immediate effect), Benadryl (to avoid any allergic reactions. This also makes me drowsy instantly and I typically end up sleeping for the rest of my treatment). I then get steroids again to avoid reactions, which in about 10 minutes is dispensed through IV. After all this, for about 2-2.5 hours, the chemo medication gets timed and dispensed. The appointment takes about 4-4.5 hours, with me sleeping for half the time because of the Benadryl. And then, I come home and have to continue the nausea oral medication for the next four days.Trodevly causes diarrhea, whereas the anti-nausea medications cause constipation. Laxative and stool softeners are given me company during chemo weeks. You can see the anti-nausea medicine bag and the injections given by the nurse.
Previously, I spent the first few hours reading, engaging with other patients in the infusion room, and texting friends and family. But, post-COVID, with the clinic opening doors for visitors, my friends graciously give me their time from their busy work schedules and join me for the treatment. I feel like a school kid, taking pride in showing off the clinic that has been my second home – an extension of my life for the last 2.5 years with no end in sight.
My friends’ visits matter to me deeply because I know it is not easy on them. Sitting in a room full of cancer patients and seeing them undergo treatment is complex. It is challenging to keep their emotions in check to see a friend go through infusion, knowing what I am enduring, and yet to be cheerful and engaging with me until I fall asleep. I can see the nervousness, anxiety, love, and fear in their eyes when they come to pick me up from home to drive to the clinic. These friendships go back over a decade, so it is all very transparent, even though we try to cover up during the drive. We keep the conversation regular until I sleep; we talk about anything and everything under the sun. The 1-1 time with each one of them has been extraordinarily precious and has only made me appreciate them so much more.
Although there is a routine pattern for the treatment, unfortunately, no Thursday is the same. Sometimes, my port acts up, and it will not function as expected, and my anxiety levels vary depending on whether it is day one or day eight of the treatment. On day one, I am well rested and have had a week to recover from the last chemo, so my numbers are usually good; I have less pain during the chemo treatment. However, since there was less of a gap for recovery on day eight, my numbers are borderline, always leaving me to sit on the fence till I meet the doctor or PA if I would get the treatment. I also show signs of leg pain during chemo on day eight, making me twist and turn and express some discomfort during the deep sleep from Benadryl, resulting in my friends pressing my legs to help me get relief.
They all accommodated my request to write about their experience joining me for an infusion.
I must admit, even though I put on a brave face, I have never wanted to accompany Brinda to her chemo sessions. Because every time I have thought about it that thought almost always is followed with memories– of the day she was born, when I went to the hospital with my grandpa to see her, and countless more. Yesterday was no different. The moment I entered the area, I was consumed by a rush of overwhelming emotions. Everything just became a blur that very second.
Watching Brinda sit in that chair bravely despite the trials of the past week left me in a daze. She explained the various medicines and procedures, which I now know like the back of my hand from countless discussions with her. I couldn’t focus on any of that. All I saw was my sister, my soulmate, my best friend in this vulnerable state, yet also filled with incredible inner strength and an unwavering will to fight. I then began to look around the room. Everyone there seemed to have this profound sense of self and strength, a determination to do whatever it took to keep on living. And above all, the staff. They were incredibly positive doing these very difficult tasks as if they were routine tasks for them. I realized they are, in fact, the angels and superheroes we read about in books. If we could take that positive energy and convert it, we could probably cure every disease on earth.
Feeling overwhelmed, I took a long walk when Brinda slept after her pre-med. I needed a little space to distance myself from the present to cherish the memories of the past, and hold onto the hope of a brighter future. I sent a little prayer above—I didn’t ask for anything. Whoever is listening already knows. I came back—with a renewed sense of will to stand by and with her in this fight—to be in it to win it.
I had the honor of taking my friend to her chemo treatment today. When we had made the plans several weeks back, I put it on my calendar, and that was that. I didn’t give it too much thought because, at the time, I didn’t want any preconceived notions. But as the days passed, I did begin to wonder….maybe I should prepare myself as I typically don’t do well in hospital settings. So I asked another friend of mine (who has sat with other friends during their chemo treatment) to share her experience, and she did so I had a general idea.
From the moment that I picked up Brinda to the moment I dropped her back off at home, I was reminded how precious this life is and how precious my friend is. Her spirit during her battle has been nothing short of remarkable.
As we walked into the building, she lit up the room with her smile and her BRIGHT, POSITIVE personality. She knew almost everyone by name and lucky them to know her!!
Not everyone was like Brinda. Not everyone there was smiling, and as I sat there while Brinda walked me through everything that would take place, I kept thinking to myself…how is she so strong? How is she smiling? How is she possibly laughing with me right now? As I sat there and secretly admired her as we swapped stories, I kept wondering that same thought – how does she do this?
She does it because her will to live is so much more than her will to give up! She is likely the most determined person I know, and she has the most incredible family and friends beside her. She is a force to be reckoned with…how blessed am I to be her friend?
I got to meet her Oncologist (who was amazing and so caring!), I got to see some of the work Volunteers do, I learned about the entire process from when a patient sits in the chair to the Oncologist ordering the right doses of medicines, how the pharmacy prepares it, how the nurse carefully starts and completes the infusion. There were so many patients there – old and young…all battling the same blasted C word.
What I experienced today was not easy, but like I told her – there is nowhere else I would’ve rather been than sitting next to her, watching her fight with everything she’s got. A true warrior that I get to call a friend.
Three words came to mind during my visit:
STRENGTH – I was amazed at the strength Brinda and other cancer patients show against the odds they face.
INNOVATION – how technology has advanced to help extend life expectancy. How we need to emphasize innovation in our teachings to our children to help this fight continue
HUMBLED – The experience got me to the ground. It reminded me to be grateful daily and focus on ‘haves’ and not on ‘have nots.’
I remember picking you up for your appointment. You were ready,determination set in your eyes. When we got to the clinic, you greeted everyone with a bright smile and showed me around as if this was your second home. It awed me that you were so brave when countless others would not be as calm in the face of these challenges. Maybe it’s because you’ve been dealing with this for a while, but I know you very well. Everything you do, you do with resilience, a sense of Hope even. Even though we had to wait longer than usual, you didn’t show any unease. We returned to the chemo area, and I saw multiple patients in the chairs. I didn’t want to be emotional while watching everyone in the room take the chemo medicine, but watching you take it so bravely and easily helped me not be sad. After a couple of hours, we went back home. You asked me if I was okay if I wanted something to drink, and it amazed me that you still asked me if I was comfortable even though you just took all these medicines. You were the same caring, kind person as always.
Something that really stuck with me was the fact that your nurse prayed for you. The fact that a random person prayed for you, like how we all pray for you every day, touched my heart. We all root for you, pray for you, and most definitely love you, Brinda.
Lots of hope, a fair amount of nervousness, and an abundance of optimism are what the place runs on. Every nurse, caregiver, and above all each and every patient no matter how young or old brings their brightest smiles, their best inner strength, and a whole lot of positive energy ready to conquer another session, another day.
My perspective about life changed a bit on a positive note after one trip with B (B for Brinda which we fondly call her) for a chemotherapy session. I thought I was helping her with the ride and giving the family a little break, little I knew the experience and exposure I would gain from this journey. I was amazed and inspired to see how she showed the facility with the same enthusiasm that someone would show in their office, greeted the staff spreading cheerfulness around her, introduced the staff/patients and made me comfortable providing all the key info that we need to know.
B is usually aware and in total control of the events happening around her, it was interesting to witness how she was pivoting to alternate options with a positive attitude, especially when the port isn’t supporting the blood draw in spite of repeated attempts. Never knew the sight of blood drops can make us all happy and relieved. Being there I realized how tiring and painful it can be especially seeing her toss around due to nausea and leg pain. She may not have explicitly said anything out loud, but it’s commendable to see her putting up a brave front, being a self-motivator with a good daily exercise regime and wearing a cheerful smile forever and whenever. My key take away from this journey with B is, “You think positive, stay active, everything will follow the suit in its own time”.
Dear Brinda,
Accompanying you for your chemotherapy session was a real privilege. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous in the morning and unsure about how I would feel. But after seeing your strength and resilience firsthand, and the way you are embracing life by sharing stories and laughter, it really made me feel comfortable and left a lasting impression on me. For a moment I felt I was back in Manipal canteen (a cafe near our office in India) having lunch with you. Your remarkable spirit and ability to find moments of joy in such a difficult situation is really something I have not seen before. Please know that I am always here to accompany you to your sessions or offer any support you may need.
Stay strong, my dear friend, and know that you are surrounded by a circle of people who care deeply about you.
Thanks Brinda for thinking of me and asking me to be there with you for your chemo session, this is the least we can do as your friends, and being there for you while you are fighting this battle has shown me how strong you are. It’s not easy to go through all this pain and still have that dedication and determination to overcome the challenges you have been going through.
Being there at the clinic around so many other cancer patients was so painful and sad to see. Seeing their families/friends being there for them shows the support that they give during this rough time is crucial. Both the young and the old, all going through this difficult stage has truly opened my eyes on the battles fought against cancer.
The way the nurses have a smile on their face while they are taking care of their patients shows their dedication and commitment to being an aid in this journey of cancer treatment.
I was able to experience the ‘bell ringing’ for one of the ladies who had completed her treatment. The relief on her husband’s face was priceless, we don’t realize how much the spouse/family of the cancer patient is going through emotionally.
Brinda, I pray for you every day and that you continue fighting this with your strong will power and keep going and “Brinda’s Army” is always there with you, supporting you every step of the way!
There were so many other emotions Brinda was going through that day:
When the nurse came to check the port to draw blood: “Anxious”
When the doctor gave in the lab results, that we were good to go with the treatment that day: “Relieved”
When the nurse said a prayer for Brinda – “Thankful”
When Brinda was asking the doctor about her medication refills and next steps – “Determined”
When Brinda was explaining to me the awareness of cancer treatment – “Knowledgeable”
When all the medication kicked in, and Brinda was resting – “Peaceful”
When the treatment was done for the day – “Relaxed at the moment, but then it would be painful few days.”
Brinda goes through this every week and more, which we don’t know and experience. She also spreads awareness and helps others by sharing her cancer knowledge.
Hats off to this strong woman I know, and I am lucky to call her call her my fighter friend 
I continue to meet friends and family, enjoying a movie, dinner outings during my break week. The picture collage is from those meetings.
I plan to keep this page active to include write-ups from my other friends who would be joining me for the chemo sessions. So please check this page periodically.
I wanted to remove the unknown of an infusion center by asking them to share their emotions and takeaways with us. When friends take turns to be there, it reduces the burden also on the family members to see their loved one in pain; it allows someone like me going through the treatment to discuss different things with different people so everything is not concentrated on one friend or a family member. Many of my friends have never been to an infusion center, yet I am so proud of their bravery, empathy, and willingness to bear it all for and with me. They are all my Dory ( From Finding Nemo), cheering me continuously and being relentlessly optimistic.
Next time, if there is an opportunity, I hope you join your friend or a family member, be their Dory, to cheer for them during and for the treatment so they don’t have to fear or worry about being alone in the journey. You have the power to make them feel so special for a lifetime by giving them just a few hours of your day.
Breast Cancer Journey 
Dear Brinda,
I saw your post on tweakIndia and read thoroughly about your cancer journey. My mother is suffering with a relapse of ovarian cancer which happened after 6 years of being cancer free. Chemotherapy has taken a toll on her health but her positive attitude is helping her cope up. While exploring all the medical options we have come across ayurvedic treatment as well which can be taken along with chemotherapy sessions. We have spoken to couple of patients who have already taken the treatment and are cancer free as of today. We are soon going to start with the same for my mother. I would like to suggest the same for you, please email me if you would like to know more about it, my email id is anukaur08@gmail.com. I know this may sound like an advertisement to you but it’s not. It’s just a ray of hope that we have found for our mother and would like to share with more patients out there.
I wish you luck for your speedy recovery.
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