Today was the big day. My first day of chemo. I’ll admit that I was anxious on the two hour drive to Lewiston. I had already made myself nauseous worrying about how nauseous I was going to get. Even though I was totally aware of this, my body didn’t seem to want to heed my mind saying cut it out. But reflecting back twelve hours later (as really that’s all the time you need to become all knowing and wise beyond your years, right?), I know that I was anxious because of the unknown. Would I be sick immediately? Would the port hurt? Would the medicine hurt going in? Would I have some horrible allergic reaction that took this option off the table? I feel a little better now that I know some of those answers but still prepared for the worst to come in the next few days.
I arrived for my 9AM appointment, met with the nurse, had my vitals taken and got seated in the chair that I would become intimate with over the next four hours. Few observations first, I was by far the youngest person there, beating some folks by forty years. Second, Brent and I have noticed on our four different visits that we’ve only seen two (and as I was leaving my third) patient without hair. Granted this cancer center is also a center for blood disorders so folks are getting different treatments. But it’s still a little disheartening that I’ll be the youngest person there yet still the baldest.
Alright, getting back on track. After checking in they first stuck the port to feed the IV line. I had put lidocaine cream on it to help numb the site but it did sting just a bit. No more than a shot would, so that was one worry crossed off. They then had to get blood to ensure the port was working correctly, and this is where things got interesting. Having been the first time they’ve accessed the port the nurse was trying to assure me this was common. But as she sat and pumped the syringe with saline back and forth all I could think was, ” oh my god she’s pumping air right in to my heart, I’m going to die!” When I wasn’t thinking that I was thinking, “aagghh, I’m going to have to go back to the evil Dr. Ho and have this done all over again!!!” But first the nurse had me turn my head, lift my arm, stand up, put the left foot in, put the left foot out and do the hokey…wait, maybe we got it on the third or fourth try after I stood up (I lost count when having those internal freak outs). She was doing this because sometimes the catheter sits against the wall of the artery and moving helps get things flowing. So finally they can start dripping thr medicine in my veins. They start off with saline for about thirty minutes and then bring out poison T. The nurse is in a hazmat suit, so that makes you feel good about what you’re getting. That drips for about an hour and all you do is sit and listen to the machine whirr, up until it starts to beep (I did have electronics and books to entertain me). Then they bring out poison C, and another hour long drip. However, it was during this drug that I noticed my nose was starting to burn. And for those of my friends and family from the bitter north, it felt like when you are out on those negative oh my gawd days in the dead of winter and all the mucus in your nose has frozen. Not pleasant but sadly I’ve probably experienced it too much in my life. So I did what they instructed me to do and told the nurse. Now this is where a recurring theme keeps happening. The,”we’ve never heard of that, we’ll have to call the pharmacist”. So I seem to be a constant anomaly. First that port couldn’t go in during surgery (only her second time ever), then the seroma that they haven’t dealt with in awhile, then the difficulty getting blood from the port (I think she was lying when she said this was common, just trying to make me feel better), and now this. They did discover (after I was home) that this can be a side effect, and probably remedied with a slower drip. Fortunately as soon as the drug was completed and they started in on my saline cleanse it went away.
So first treatment in the books. Quarter of the way done. Woo hoo. I wish I could stop here and say other than the nose issue today was a breeze in regards to side effects. But alas, not that lucky. Let’s just say if you live two hours away and they advise you to have Imodium on hand, don’t dismiss this. Fortunately I did have some, but I’m also grateful no one is really working at my office this week, as an emergency stop was in order. Yes. Poison IV struck. You’re welcome Cheryl, Joslyn and Melissa.
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