Chemo day

I invited myself on this trip.  Rachel only had two more sessions of chemo left, she's had chemo buddies at other times, and I wanted to go along this time.  
"Mom," she said, "you'll be bored."  
"No I won't," I told her.  "I have an Ipad."  
When I mentioned on Facebook that I was with my daughter while she was getting chemo, I got comments like this:  "You are such a WONDERFUL mom!"  
Sheesh.  
I was there because I wanted to go.  Rachel certainly didn't need me there.  The chemo doesn't start hurting until twenty-four hours after she's received it.  
I took a tote bag with my Ipad and other necessities.  Rachel had a whole backpack of stuff, a soft blanket to cover up with if she got cold, and a little cooler with bottles of water packed in ice, which I carried in.  

I felt like we were going camping, we were both so loaded down with stuff.  
The nurses amazed me:  They see many patients daily, and yet they remembered who Rachel was.  Rachel's favorite nurse even remembered that I burned my belly, because Rachel told her all about it a couple of months ago when it happened.  
We had picked up Subway sandwiches to eat while we were waiting.  Rachel had chips in her backpack and bottled water.  It was not only a campout, it was also like a picnic.  

Rachel drinks a lot of water, so of course she makes frequent trips to the bathroom.  This is the chair she frequently vacated.  

This is the stuff that is probably saving her life.  

By Friday night she will be feeling the effects of the remedy.  This coming weekend will not be a pleasant one for her.  Next week she will spend half her time at work, and the rest of her time at home in bed.  But there is only one more chemo treatment!  

So I said, on the way home, "After the next treatment your hair will start growing back."  
"Yes," she answered.  
"And," I said, "you are going to say, 'Losing my hair wasn't a big deal at all.'  Right?'"
"HELL  NO," Rachel answered, "I won't say that.  I hate losing my hair."  
"Really?  Even though you know it's going to grow back?"  
"I hate not having hair," she said, "because anywhere I go, people know I'm sick.  People know I have cancer.  I hate it."  
I am paraphrasing, but you get the idea.
I enjoyed spending the day with my daughter.  It was a good day.  
Thanks, Rachel, for taking me along.