thereyougothen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thereyougothen) wrote2007-11-21 09:01 pm
thereyougothen) wrote2007-11-21 09:01 pm
Entry tags:
Made it through ok
well, ok, I've done it now, so it's too late to back out, My hair will probably all fall out as a result of this treatment today, so I might as well have the rest too.
It was pouring rain, so Bill took both boys to school in the car, then went into work to collect his laptop, so he could work* while I was being poisoned.
I put the "magic cream" on my hand. This is what they give kids and scared people before blood tests, heavy lidocaine or something that needs 45 minutes to an hour to work, then you cover it with the cling film type bandages.
We got to the Western at 10.20, there were plenty of parking spaces in the cancer patients' lot. Got into Ward 1, which is basically the day chemo centre, and was given a form to fill out. The secretary in me was appalled. It was very badly photocopied and badly formatted. Ah well.
Then we waited about 15 minutes in reception where I knitted a few rounds on sock two. Shona, my named nurse, then took us through to a private room to chat, but not before we saw the huge number of people (ok, maybe it was 10 or 12, but they all had a freind or partner sat next to them, and the spaces looked really crowded) sat in comfortable looking armchairs hooked up to beeping electronic IV stands. horror. we were both stunned.
Shona said that the magic cream on my hand was a dead giveaway that i was nervous, but i explained about my difficult veins and that the nurse at the cancer centre had suggested it. Shona explained that it was important that I be able to feel if the drug (epirubicin for those who are interested, look on the cancer backup site) was not going into the vein as it is so toxic. So, none of that next time.
we spent a long time talking to Shona and being run through all the side effects and having it impressed upon us how important it is to watch out for fevers, etc. oh and for 24 hours after the treatment, my pee would be pink or red, and not to be scared, the drug is dark red.
she asked how i was feeling, and i told her that it felt very odd to come to hospital to let her put poison in me. She looked hurt at that. We also talked about how it would affect the boys, she said that they would be my strength to get me through it.
She gave me a pile of paper, and a prescription for a wig... Would anyone like to come and help me choose one?! I said No way was I having a wig, but Shona says to go ahead and get one, it's free after all, and if nothing else it will give my kids a new toy.
two bits of good cheery uppy news. it's the epirubicin that will make my hair fall out, not the CMF (yes, you can look that up too if you want). so providing i don't get sick or anything, i am currently scheduled to have my last epi infusion on 25 January. Not long after which, I can expect my hair to start growing. The CMF will not make it fall out, and in fact it will start to come back. this cheered me up enormously. the 2nd bit of good news - i go to ward one for the first two herceptin treatments (every 3 weeks for a year) but if all is well, someone will come to the house to do the rest of them. with luck, i am looking at only another 9 trips to ward one.
at 11.40 we went back onto the ward, I stood for 10 minutes or so with my hand in hot water. then i chose one of the comfy armchairs. Shona tapped at my hand and found a good vein, but it wasn't the one that was deadened, so she said since i'd gone to the trouble, she might as well use the deadened one, it hurt a bit anyway. (you know what's coming don't you?) all the time up until she was putting the cannula in, i was listening to the little voice in my head that was telling me that it wasn't too late to bugger off home and tell her to stuff it.
So, cannula in, and a saline drip is put in and my hand is wrapped in an electric heating pad to keep it warm, stop the drug from irritating it so much as it will make the vein - um, what's the word? - get wider**. i ws given a little pot with anti-sickness drugs, loads and loads of tablets, i didn't bother to count, i just swallowed.
the WRVS*** came round. they were both men. older gentlemen. Bill had two sandwiches and an orange juice. i had nothing, i felt a little odd, you see.
after 5 minutes the saline was running in freely, so Shona came back with another nurse and THE DRUG. other nurse asked me my name and DOB, ticked a box on her clipboard, and we were off. i had another moment when i wanted to run away, but i didn't. she started to pump it in, yes, the nurse sits there and depresses the plunger on a series of 5 syringes to give me this drug, no bleeping electronic drip trolley for moi. really, the minute she started, I felt my mood lift. I mean, that was it, it was done now, i've had some of it, so i might as well have the rest, and the next three treatments too. and hell, why not the four afterwards, then the herceptin as well, yeah, might as well.
the first syringe is almost done, and oh yes, the drip stops, the vein has collapsed. (see, i warned you up there ^) so, we have to go to the other vein after all, and of course we should have done in the first place. so, back to the basin of hot water in the sink, then back to the chair and a new cannula put in the side of my wrist. Shona left for a while to let the saline start dripping in fast, then she same back and pumped the rest of the red stuff in. then we just had to wait until the saline bag emptied and we could go.
or not. Shona is the team leader, which is nice and safe feeling. but it also means she gets called to help other staff. so we sat for a quite a while waiting after the drip finished.
but then we left. i felt fine. absolutely fine. we left at 13.40, having arrived at 10.20. the other visits shouldn't be as long. not by a long shot.
drank a half litre of water on the way home, came home peed some pink stuff, and ate a huge plate of hummous and pitta for lunch.
day 7 is when i should expect to start to feel low - that's when my white count will start to fall, and then slowly rise up. it's a shame that this will coincide with my brother's visit, but we'll just have to see. i have a little fantasy in which i am well enough to turn up to city knitty either this weekend or next wednesday. we'll see.
Called my brother & babbled maniacally at him for a while - it was probably the relief, but i think he felt relieved as well. Have basically babbled maniacally at my mum, Bill, and Maria who came round and am now doing the same here.
i have more anti-sickness drugs to take at bedtime, and for the next 3 days. and in one of the most painful ironies of my recent life - I have been given 48 domperidone tablets. which i wish i didn't need and could share. if i should find at the end of my treatment that i have some left, i promise i will not be flushing them down the toilet or giving them back to the pharmacy, ok? but i need these until the chemo ends, which will be months.
i doubt the report of the next chemo session will be as long as this. but i thought you'd all want to know... and i needed a record of it for me as well. i need to remember how good(ish) i'm feeling this afternoon and evening.
under a cut this goes.
since i don't know how i will be feeling, i'd still rather people come to visit me rather than rely on me to go out and meet up anywhere. I'm just sayin'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* ha, ha, fat chance!
**dilate, that's the word
*** Women's Royal Voluntary Service
I put the "magic cream" on my hand. This is what they give kids and scared people before blood tests, heavy lidocaine or something that needs 45 minutes to an hour to work, then you cover it with the cling film type bandages.
We got to the Western at 10.20, there were plenty of parking spaces in the cancer patients' lot. Got into Ward 1, which is basically the day chemo centre, and was given a form to fill out. The secretary in me was appalled. It was very badly photocopied and badly formatted. Ah well.
Then we waited about 15 minutes in reception where I knitted a few rounds on sock two. Shona, my named nurse, then took us through to a private room to chat, but not before we saw the huge number of people (ok, maybe it was 10 or 12, but they all had a freind or partner sat next to them, and the spaces looked really crowded) sat in comfortable looking armchairs hooked up to beeping electronic IV stands. horror. we were both stunned.
Shona said that the magic cream on my hand was a dead giveaway that i was nervous, but i explained about my difficult veins and that the nurse at the cancer centre had suggested it. Shona explained that it was important that I be able to feel if the drug (epirubicin for those who are interested, look on the cancer backup site) was not going into the vein as it is so toxic. So, none of that next time.
we spent a long time talking to Shona and being run through all the side effects and having it impressed upon us how important it is to watch out for fevers, etc. oh and for 24 hours after the treatment, my pee would be pink or red, and not to be scared, the drug is dark red.
she asked how i was feeling, and i told her that it felt very odd to come to hospital to let her put poison in me. She looked hurt at that. We also talked about how it would affect the boys, she said that they would be my strength to get me through it.
She gave me a pile of paper, and a prescription for a wig... Would anyone like to come and help me choose one?! I said No way was I having a wig, but Shona says to go ahead and get one, it's free after all, and if nothing else it will give my kids a new toy.
two bits of good cheery uppy news. it's the epirubicin that will make my hair fall out, not the CMF (yes, you can look that up too if you want). so providing i don't get sick or anything, i am currently scheduled to have my last epi infusion on 25 January. Not long after which, I can expect my hair to start growing. The CMF will not make it fall out, and in fact it will start to come back. this cheered me up enormously. the 2nd bit of good news - i go to ward one for the first two herceptin treatments (every 3 weeks for a year) but if all is well, someone will come to the house to do the rest of them. with luck, i am looking at only another 9 trips to ward one.
at 11.40 we went back onto the ward, I stood for 10 minutes or so with my hand in hot water. then i chose one of the comfy armchairs. Shona tapped at my hand and found a good vein, but it wasn't the one that was deadened, so she said since i'd gone to the trouble, she might as well use the deadened one, it hurt a bit anyway. (you know what's coming don't you?) all the time up until she was putting the cannula in, i was listening to the little voice in my head that was telling me that it wasn't too late to bugger off home and tell her to stuff it.
So, cannula in, and a saline drip is put in and my hand is wrapped in an electric heating pad to keep it warm, stop the drug from irritating it so much as it will make the vein - um, what's the word? - get wider**. i ws given a little pot with anti-sickness drugs, loads and loads of tablets, i didn't bother to count, i just swallowed.
the WRVS*** came round. they were both men. older gentlemen. Bill had two sandwiches and an orange juice. i had nothing, i felt a little odd, you see.
after 5 minutes the saline was running in freely, so Shona came back with another nurse and THE DRUG. other nurse asked me my name and DOB, ticked a box on her clipboard, and we were off. i had another moment when i wanted to run away, but i didn't. she started to pump it in, yes, the nurse sits there and depresses the plunger on a series of 5 syringes to give me this drug, no bleeping electronic drip trolley for moi. really, the minute she started, I felt my mood lift. I mean, that was it, it was done now, i've had some of it, so i might as well have the rest, and the next three treatments too. and hell, why not the four afterwards, then the herceptin as well, yeah, might as well.
the first syringe is almost done, and oh yes, the drip stops, the vein has collapsed. (see, i warned you up there ^) so, we have to go to the other vein after all, and of course we should have done in the first place. so, back to the basin of hot water in the sink, then back to the chair and a new cannula put in the side of my wrist. Shona left for a while to let the saline start dripping in fast, then she same back and pumped the rest of the red stuff in. then we just had to wait until the saline bag emptied and we could go.
or not. Shona is the team leader, which is nice and safe feeling. but it also means she gets called to help other staff. so we sat for a quite a while waiting after the drip finished.
but then we left. i felt fine. absolutely fine. we left at 13.40, having arrived at 10.20. the other visits shouldn't be as long. not by a long shot.
drank a half litre of water on the way home, came home peed some pink stuff, and ate a huge plate of hummous and pitta for lunch.
day 7 is when i should expect to start to feel low - that's when my white count will start to fall, and then slowly rise up. it's a shame that this will coincide with my brother's visit, but we'll just have to see. i have a little fantasy in which i am well enough to turn up to city knitty either this weekend or next wednesday. we'll see.
Called my brother & babbled maniacally at him for a while - it was probably the relief, but i think he felt relieved as well. Have basically babbled maniacally at my mum, Bill, and Maria who came round and am now doing the same here.
i have more anti-sickness drugs to take at bedtime, and for the next 3 days. and in one of the most painful ironies of my recent life - I have been given 48 domperidone tablets. which i wish i didn't need and could share. if i should find at the end of my treatment that i have some left, i promise i will not be flushing them down the toilet or giving them back to the pharmacy, ok? but i need these until the chemo ends, which will be months.
i doubt the report of the next chemo session will be as long as this. but i thought you'd all want to know... and i needed a record of it for me as well. i need to remember how good(ish) i'm feeling this afternoon and evening.
under a cut this goes.
since i don't know how i will be feeling, i'd still rather people come to visit me rather than rely on me to go out and meet up anywhere. I'm just sayin'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* ha, ha, fat chance!
**dilate, that's the word
*** Women's Royal Voluntary Service