My First Chemo

My first day of chemotherapy was July 10, 2024. 8:00 a.m. Room 115.

I didn’t sleep at all the night before. Not one minute. But seriously, how was I supposed to peacefully fall asleep knowing that the next morning I was willingly going to let someone inject powerful chemicals into my body? Chemicals designed to kill cells—healthy ones included—in hopes of shrinking or destroying the cancer inside me.

I had a tumor the size of a strawberry that needed some serious shrinking. Hopefully, it would disappear altogether. I mean, a man can hope, right?

Why I turned to other patients for answers

One thing I learned quickly during cancer treatment was that my doctors weren’t always going to prepare me emotionally for what was coming. At times, they felt more like “direction enforcers” than the empathetic, informative, caring guides I desperately wanted. So I turned to YouTube, ChatGPT, and articles written by people who had actually experienced chemotherapy.

Now I get to be one of those people for you. Here's what I wish someone had told me before my first day of chemotherapy.

Sleepless nights and steroids before treatment

First, if you don’t sleep much the night before chemo, you’re not alone. In my case, anxiety wasn’t the only culprit. I also had to take steroids before treatment, and those steroids could keep me wide awake.

My FLOT regimen and the take-home pump

My chemotherapy regimen was called FLOT: fluorouracil, leucovorin, oxaliplatin, and docetaxel (Taxotere). FLOT is used for certain stomach and gastroesophageal cancers, including the type of esophageal cancer I had. Because I was considered “fairly young,” my oncologist gave me an aggressive dosage.

Something else nobody warned me about? Sometimes chemo comes home with you.

After each session, I left with chemotherapy still being administered through a pump. I carried it around my waist in a pouch, inside a hard plastic container shaped like a grenade. Talk about an accessory I never expected to own.

Side effects nobody warned me about

For me, the worst effects usually didn’t hit immediately. They often came the following day. Nausea and fatigue became regular visitors. Vomiting, dark stools, neuropathy, and the infamous “chemo brain” soon joined them. By my second round, I had lost all my hair. Chemo also left a strange taste in my mouth, and sometimes my urine was bright orange. Nobody warned me about those things either.

Chemo brain: When humor is the best medicine

And chemo brain? Oh, it’s real.

One day I was trying to spell “splattered” for my mom. I started with, “S-P-T-L…no, S-P-L-T-T…” Eventually, somehow, I proudly landed on “S-P-L-I-T.”

I went from *splattered* to *split*.

I just started laughing. Sometimes humor is medicine too.

How to prepare for your first chemo treatment

My mom came with me to every round of chemotherapy. I will forever be grateful for that. If you’re preparing for chemo, bring someone you love. Life is simply better when you walk through the difficult parts beside someone who loves you.

Here's what helped me:

• Wear comfortable clothes.
• Complete your labs beforehand.
• Follow your care team's instructions about eating or fasting.
• Bring a blanket, pillow, book, or something comforting. I slept through many of my infusions.
• Bring a notebook too. Write down medications, instructions, side effects, and questions. Trust me—don’t depend on chemo brain to remember everything.

One round at a time: You will get through this

I ultimately had four rounds of chemotherapy, then surgery, and then one final round afterward.

Chemotherapy taught me to listen to my body in a way I never had before. It was difficult, exhausting, uncomfortable, and sometimes frightening—but each round eventually ended.

So if your first chemo is approaching, learn about your specific treatment and ask questions. Surround yourself with people and things that bring you hope. On your lowest days, even the smallest amount of positivity can make the suffering feel a little lighter.

Most importantly, remember this: Chemo will end. Don’t try to conquer every treatment today. Just get through this one. One round at a time. And before you know it, you’ll be looking back at Room 115 instead of walking into it.