Once at Curie we promptly notified the nurses and Dr. E. of my unusual episode of the previous afternoon. Dr. E. nodded his head slowly, his mouth working nervously. "That drug will sometimes have that effect on patients, but it happens so seldom, I didn't want to mention it to you." "Gee, thanks," I mused, silently. Personally, I would have liked to know all the facts. "Oh, well," I thought, "maybe it was no big deal, but to us it was worth a good scare and a couple of laughs." A nurse came in and shut the door, instructing me to drop my pants. "But I'm not supposed to have shots any more," I protested. "This isn't a shot," she said. "It's a suppository...for nausea," she added. "Oh!" I swallowed my distaste for the idea, dropped my pants, bent over and took my medicine. By the end of the week we were fairly used to the routine. We discovered that the driver of the courtesy car would let us out and pick us up in front of Curie, which saved my energy. For security, I learned to carry my white cardboard "barf bucket" to and from Curie. Unless I was lucky, I would throw up all afternoon and into the evening; we therefore devised a way to make the bathroom comfortable by spreading a towel on the floor and placing a pillow nearby on which I could lay between seiges. Near 8:00 p.m. I could usually eat an egg,toast or a potato. Mom helped me clean up and dress for bed, then I would attempt to sleep until I had to wake and repeat the process. After the fifth treatment, Dr. E. came into the room to set up my next date for receiving chemotherapy. My particular schedule was to appear approximately every six weeks for five days of treatment; each patient had his own ritual in which the drugs and their dosage, as well as the duration they were received, were as uniquely determined as his type of cancer and its extent. Chemotherapy incurred numerous variables, and the reaction depended on the drugs administered and the condition of the patient. I was amazed to discover that some recipients did not lose their hair or become nauseous in the least. Some even gained weight and carried on relatively normal lives, working and attending social functions, and basically thrilled they were alive; they complained only of their excessive rendezvous with needles. Although my effects were far from ideal, I was relieved that I was able to receive my treatments at Curie as an out-patient; free from the hospital. One's morale is better maintained, even if the breeze is felt upon one's face only to and from the clinic.