Spending the Holidays in Cancer Treatment

Although I have many special people in my life, I’m not a partier.I enjoy smaller gatherings of family and friends; I don’t particularly like to dress up.

Despite that, Thanksgiving and Christmas are my two favorite days of the year – primarily because of the quality time I get to spend with my family, but also because of the Thanksgiving turkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie, the only piece of pie I eat all year.

The month of December brings more cards and genuine messages than junk in the mailbox. What a treat! By the 20th of the month, I close the door to the room where all the presents had been stored and eventually wrapped, thankful to have them all under the tree. Then as Christmas gets closer, I wish for a dusting of snow on the ground the night of the 24th, and I anticipate the beautiful evergreens with tiny white lights and the Nativity that decorate the church for Christmas Mass. On Christmas morning, once my children and now my grandchildren, look curiously at the gifts under the tree as the adults finish our Christmas Brunch.

However, the holiday season of 2018 was different for my husband and me, but in no way was it disappointing, or sad. That year the final session of my cisplatin chemotherapy, for my stage 3B non-small cell lung cancer, was about a week before the last Thursday of November. I was not nauseous that day, but neither the stuffing nor the pumpkin pie seemed to have any taste, which was OK; I still enjoyed the quality time, feeling extremely thankful to have successfully completed my harsh chemo regimen.

I received radiation therapy for my lung cancer from mid-December to mid-January of 2018 and 2019. Each of my treatments lasted 15 minutes or so, and took place Mondays through Fridays for five weeks, every day except Christmas and New Year’s. My husband kindly drove me every day, despite the fact that I could have shared the driving; my side effects were very minor. The routine of the daily 20-minute trips to and from the community hospital in the middle of the winter was simply my most important job at that point in my life. Most days the temperature was in the 20s or 30s; often the snow was falling lightly.One day the weather made the trip rather dangerous. All patients were offered valet parking and the young in their heavy jackets and knit caps, welcomed us warmly, and took care of our car, enabling us to stay indoors as we waited for one of them to get it when we were finished.

The community hospital where the cancer center is located was decorated for Christmas, and the staff wore scrubs that were red, white, green, or covered with snowmen, jingle bells, Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, or Santa Claus prints. At each of the nurses’ stations there were dishes of small candy canes and Hershey’s Kisses. Individual fruit-flavored LifeSavers were the back-up candy stored deep in the receptionist’s desk. The cherry LifeSavers were my favorite.

All the staff and fellow patients wished each other holiday greetings; some of us developed short-term friendships. It never would have dawned on me to feel bad. In fact, there was a certain feeling of camaraderie among those us who spent some of our cancer journeys’ driving Wildwood Road to Babcock Boulevard that December.

The week between Christmas and New Year’s brought me closer to finishing my radiation treatment; it had gone much better than my chemotherapy, and on Friday, Jan. 11, 2019, I would ring the bell, a tradition in many cancer centers, celebrating the completion of a cancer treatment regimen. Never once did I feel like I had missed the 2018 to 2019 holiday season!

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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