My Kingdom for a Doner

It's done. I am done with chemo.

At the very least, this entire schedule of chemo is done. If I have to go through chemotherapy again, it will be long after radiation therapy is complete and it won't be done in Berlin. I'll be able to be back home in Seattle or Ottawa and be comfortable in my own house and be surrounded with my friends and family. Yes, I'll have to probably go through a battery of scans in Canada or the USA because most likely not every bit of data will be transferable from Germany. Yes, I'll have to navigate the Canadian or American medical system, and whatever bills come with them. And yes, I'll have to get used to being prompted to pay a 20% tip and a 10-15% after-the-price tag sales tax whenever I want to purchase anything.

On the other hand, I'll be home.

Germany is great, and I absolutely love the friends that I've met here and I would not be in this healthy mental state without their support. On the other hand, the call to be back across the pond has been growing louder and is accruing long-distance fees on my mental phone bill. It's not you Deutchland, it's me.

But back to the chemo.

Today's chemotherapy session was incredibly smooth. I arrived 20 minutes late, but I was processed through registration nearly immiedately, had the blood drawn so promptly that I didn't have time to psyche myself out about it, and I found myself sitting in the chemo chair two eyeblinks later. The ward was nearly empty and so I had the luxury of picking a seat right by the window. I was out of the hospital three hours later, each chemical bag seamlessly swapped out by a passing nurse. I even was able to celebrate afterwards with a sketchy doner.

Let's have a sidebar and talk about this doner for a moment. For those who aren't in the loop, the doner is as culturally significant in Berlin as the bretzel and 1-litre stein of beer is to Munich. It came to Berlin by way of the city's beautiful Turkish diaspora, and became popular as a cheap late-night snack with greasy meat and strong garlic sauce and bafflingly crisp vegetables on fresh-ish bread due to the city's late night nightlife scene. It hasn't been able to escape the ravages of inflation - rising in price from 5$ to 7$ in the year and a half that I've lived here - but is still one of the best deals in this city. I haven't had a doner since chemotherapy started out of concern for the safety of my body's bacterial fauna. I have been craving it for MONTHS.

There exists a permenant doner stand erected right next to the main entrance of the hospital. It is normally frequent by patients, doctors, and nurses. They proudly advertise that they can deliver right to your ward. The scent of chicken and garlic wafting out of the window is tantalising.

Reader, I broke my fast and had a doner after chemotherapy. Stomach health be damned.

I was hungry, hadn't eaten during the entire chemo session, and was feeling good that I was over. After stealing a bite from my partner's doner, I needed one for myself. I was able to eat most of it, and my stomach wasn't too upset during the meal. It's been 9 hours since I have finished that doner and my stomach is gurgling slightly but it really can't be determined yet if it's due to my lunch, my dinner, or my fourth chemo session.

I'll find out sometime tonight if my lunch was a bad idea. If I don't see it in weird smelly bits in the toilet bowl by breakfast, I'll take this as a win.

Alright, sidebar over.

The weird water tasting issues from the last chemo session reappeared this time, but differently. Instead of me being physically revulsed by the taste of water, it felt like the water had a weird chlorine-metallic taste. This taste also spread to my food, but if I had a food with a strong taste - like a vanilla cookie - the flavour would overpower the chlorine-metallic taste. I think it was the chemicals seeping into my saliva, which would then coat whatever I ate.

The sensation has since passed. I have been able to enjoy dinner (and doner) and drink several litres of water. That's a win!

Now I have a one month wait until radiation therapy starts. I'll have a couple of CT and PET-CT scans in the meantime - I'll eventually write about those, the latter has been the most unpleasant procedure that I've endured so far since this cancer saga began - but my October should mostly be restful as my body recovers and fights off the cancer. I can enjoy the Berlin fall, have a non-alcoholic beer at an Oktoberfest tent, and play some Zelda.

The best part of October: My PICC Line/catheter should be removed next week! I'll be free at last!