Cleaning Out the Medicine Cabinet
A few weeks ago, I cleaned out the medicine cabinet. That doesn’t sound super exciting, I know, but I threw away 17 bottles of expired chemotherapy and cancer related medications.
Last year, these bottles were strung out across our counter at all times ready to be administered to my daughter Lexy every 4-12 hours.
A lot has changed in a year.
BACK TO “THAT” PLACE
I’ve been reminded that fear can strike at any time. I had tried to clean the medicine cabinet after Lexy’s port removal surgery. That was months ago. These bottles were something I just couldn’t get rid of. Like some kind of crazy cancer superstition.
But then I noticed seeing the bottles was hard—not only for me, but for Lexy. They took us back to “that” place.
A piece of it always stays with you. You never forget seeing your child gasp for air or the sound of the alarm notifying everyone she is in distress. You can’t unfeel the helplessness as you watch nurses and doctors try to get oxygen into your daughter as she begins to turn blue. The look of fear in her eyes still haunts me.
As terrified as I was, I can’t imagine how Lexy felt. A neutropenic fever due to low blood counts had turned into a collapsed lung and several gastrointestinal ulcers. The chemotherapy was doing its job in killing the osteosarcoma, but it was also putting Lexy’s life in jeopardy.
That was our lives last year. We both needed to say goodbye to the medicine bottles—we have enough reminders.
So, April 13 was the day. Time to throw it all out. Those medications were lifesaving as Lexy battled cancer, but now they were expired and useless.
I’ve never been so emotional to throw something away.
My medicine cabinet is clear. Those bottles aren’t here anymore. But you know who is still here? Lexy! Praise God.